


FEELINGS | Dream & GeorgeNotFound

by juswannabeme



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, dreamwasfound - Fandom, gream
Genre: Abuse, BadBoyHalo - Freeform, Body Image, Bullying, Child Abuse, Clay - Freeform, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Dream & GeorgeNotFound - Freeform, Dream Smp, Dream/GeorgeNotFound - Freeform, GeorgeNotFound-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBT, M/M, Minecraft, Original Character(s), Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, dream team, dreamwasfound, georgenotfound - Freeform, mcyt - Freeform, minecraft youtubers - Freeform, skeppy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 70,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28114407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juswannabeme/pseuds/juswannabeme
Summary: Pain. Hurt. Desire;Things you can't easily see on the outside.Meeting his friends for the first time, Clay didn't know what to expect. Friendships seem like an easy thing to grasp; especially over video games and voice chats. But friendships can especially be hard to handle, especially if you develop new feelings for someone.Although the worst part; you think they don't love you back, but you don't know why.And no matter how hard you try,Some things seem impossible to change.(Currently has 150K reads on Wattpad!)[CURRENTLY ON GOING]
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 142





	1. New Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first major work, I hope you really like it!
> 
> Also, this book is currently available on my Wattpad with currently 150K reads! You can interact with me on my Wattpad account under the same username @juswannabeme if you want too!
> 
> I just wanted to post it here so I can reach a new audience :)
> 
> If you want to read there, or check it out, the link is here, https://www.wattpad.com/story/234960007-feelings-dream-georgenotfound

After a couple hours of recording, Clay and George had finally wrapped up filming. Both decided to return to their classic Speed Runner vs Hunter video idea. With Clay being the speed runner and George being the hunter; it turned out exactly how Clay expected it to go.

"I seriously can't believe I lost again! Why are you such a try hard."

"George, you really expected me to lose against you?" He loved to tease George, he'd usually catch himself displaying a cheesy grin from ear to ear.

"Haha, shut up you're annoying. Anyways I actually have to go now, I have some work I have to catch up on, if you need me just shoot me a text."

For some reason he found some sadness in the words George spoke, he wanted to talk to him more. Recently, it's been bothering him that George never really stuck around after filming, they had a lot of small talk. But he just wanted a little bit more out of their friendly conversations, although, he can't even find the right words to continue the conversation, let alone George.

_Does George not wanna talk to me? Hm, what other work does he have to spend so much time on? Should I ask him if he needs help? Probably not._

"Oh okay, I'll talk to you later then." Clay replied.

"Okay bye!"

"Ha, bye georgie."

Right after George hung up the call, he made sure the newly recorded video was where it was supposed to be, he checked his files, visited his YouTube channel to make sure everything was alright. After doubling checking everything, he decided to take a break from his computer and climbed onto his bed.

He laid on his back staring at the ceiling. Outside of his close friends; George, Nick, Darryl, he doesn't have a lot of other people to talk to. Clay spent most of his free time just scrolling on his phone, wishing he could have someone to talk to, to spend time with. After a couple of minutes just staring at the ceiling, he spent some time scrolling on his twitter. He found some fan art of George, admiring the detailed artwork.

_Awe, these are so cute,_ Clay thought.

_What? Never mind_ , his own thought surprised him. He quickly brushed off that thought all flustered.

George always found a way to creep into his head, not being able to find a cure to get him out. Maybe talking to George would help; he thought about what to text George.

Oh, he could ask him if he needed help with anything. He checked the time, it had been only 37 minutes since they talked on discord. He kept deliberating if he should text him.

_Should I text him? I guess it wouldn't hurt._

**Clay**

Hey, do you need help editing anything? i'm kinda   
bored lol.

He looked at the blaring screen, waiting for those three dots to show up, wondering what George would respond with. Now thinking about it, the last thing he wants is to come across being to pushy, or coming across as needy. He felt his face heat up with some kind of embarrassment. Maybe he should've waited longer to text George.

He shut off his phone and placed it besides him, closing his eyes. Suddenly, what seemed like a few moments he heard a text notification pierce through the silence.

_Already?_

He shot his eyes open and quickly, but hesitantly, grabbed his phone to see who it was from, and surprisingly it was from George. He felt his heart beat a little faster accompanied with an amusing smile. He immediately shook his head as a from of defensive in the way he just felt.

_What the hell, stop it Clay,_ again quickly trying to dissipate those weird thoughts.

He opened the text and read it. 

**Georgie**

Needy much? 

_Shit._

Clay's face quickly turned red in embarrassment, He instantly regretted sending that text.   
  


**Georgie**

Haha Jk. Actually can I send you the video I recorded with Nick a week ago? Tell me if it's any good.

He instantly let out a heavy, but relieved sigh. But   
there's no way George actually thought that he found him needy, or worse, annoying? I mean, they never talked about anything too serious, given the nature of their friendship, they usually joke about everything - so was George actually trying to tell him something?

Clay scrunched his eyes and nose in shame, placing his hands on his head still laying on his bed. He felt like he screwed up, chipping away any chances he had to talk to George like a normal person. If George wanted to talk to him, he would, right? But he hasn't. He slowly realized that texting first was almost his job in their friendship. If George wanted to get more personal in their relationship, he'd try, right?

Clay quickly got up, with his back aligned with the bed frame. His eyes looking down, not focusing on anything.

_What? What the hell. Why am I doing this?_

He caught himself overthinking about him again. He'd spent some days trying to figure out why George has been eating at his thoughts lately. There wasn't any logical explanation to describe it. He'd come to the conclusion that spending so much time alone, he needed someone to be there, but he didn't know who. There wasn't any antidote to cure himself with from these recurring thoughts. He felt his heart grow heavier, as if something needed to be there to lift it. He brought his knees to his chest, questioning himself.

_I need to stop it, why George, just get the hell out of there, get out of my head. I don't need you. Please stop._

A loud, sharp noise snapped him out of this thoughts and into reality. He picked up his phone to discover it was another text from George. His chest began to beat faster. He realized he left George on read by accident.

_Fuck._

**Georgie**

Hello? Did you get the video? 

Was he mad at for leaving him on read? Should he tell him it was on accident? What could he possibly say to him; Oh sorry I was thinking about you again. He left out a sigh in despair. He stared nervously at the screen, thinking about what to say. George's words were daunting, What _could_ he even say?

He hovered his thumbs over the keyboard, rapidly typing out a message. After what seems like forever, he managed to finally reply. 

**Clay**

Haha sorry my cat was bothering me, i'll check if I got it. 

He pounced onto his computer to check if he received the video; he didn't want to keep George waiting any longer. He got it. He swiftly jumped on to his bed where his phone was at to reply. And wow - George hasn't even responded yet. Fast but steadily, he typed out a message. 

**Clay**

Yeah i got it, i'll watch it later and i'll text you if it needs any fixing,   
  


Maybe he should give him a compliment? He figured you only live once. This might be a mistake. But he continued the same message anyways. 

**Clay**

Yeah i got it, i'll watch it later and i'll text you if it needs any fixing, which i doubt it will :)  
  


He swallowed his pride, looked away and closed his eyes, and hit the send button. All he wanted is to be the best friend he could possibly be. He strived to be there for George, if he needed someone to talk to, had issues, he just hoped he'd be the one George would call.

This was eating him alive, constantly finding himself wrapped around George. Almost as if someone has forced him a pill down his throat to become addicted. He was tied up, constantly looking around for something to free himself with. But as usual, nothing seemed to work, he was kidnapped by his own thoughts, seemingly tied up there until the end of time.

*Ding*

He suddenly warped back into the real world. Scrambling to get his phone, he checked who it was. He read it as fast as he could possibly read. 

**Georgie**

Alright sounds good, and thanks ❤️ lol 

He glared at the screen wide eyed, the corners of his mouths reaching to his ears all paired with his dancing heartbeat. That heart, what does it mean? I mean - there was no way he was being serious about the heart, he's being funny, that's it. That's the only thing that heart could mean. After looking at George's message for a minute or two, he closed the message app. His head was spinning, there were too many things he couldn't bear to understand.

All the things he felt for George were growing into something that was foreign him. He couldn't decide if this was because of the intense feeling of loneliness he's been experiencing or he feels something for George -

_No, that's not it._

He panicked, he needed to distract himself with something. He picked up his phone and decided to scroll through instagram, since there was nothing else better to do. Without even noticing he once again fell into fan account posts on his explore page. There was so many pictures. Reposted pictures of George kept popping in and out of his screen, almost teasing his eyes. It was almost like eye candy, something he could treat himself too, but probably shouldn't - too much and it can be bad for you. Too much candy and it can make you sick. He eventually landed on a screenshot of George's face from one of his twitch live streams.

He grew upset, his heart getting heavier with each second he looked at his beautiful, porcelain face. It felt like as if someone tied a weight to his ankles and threw him into the ocean. There was no escape.

Everything about him was perfect: His dark brown hair, his alluring dark eyes, those pink soft lips of his. His chest ached with pain, but for the desire of the need for someone.

_God, I love you much._

He instantaneously gasped and propped himself up against the bed, his phone falling off. His heart was threatening to rip through his chest. His eyes darting around the room, not knowing where to look. He couldn't believe it.

_No no no, this can't be. There's no way._


	2. Conflicted

Clay slowly opened his eyes. Rays of sunshine leaked and scattered across his room though the cracks of the curtains. He rolled over to his side, hugging his pillow. This was a new habit he developed, not being able to sleep without snuggling with a pillow all night. He slowly recalled his dream during his sleep.

Not to his surprise, it was about George. He had taken him to out to eat, then to the beach to watch the sun lower beyond the far horizon. Beautiful colors of oranges, reds and pinks filled the sky. He looked at George, George looking back at him with those dark beading eyes. Clay shortens the distance between them, slowly but surely pressing his lips against his, which he accepts and deepens the kiss. It was everything Clay could've asked for.

He realizes how cliché and corny it was. The beach? The sunset, really? How unoriginal. He grabs his pillow and smothers his face in it, just trying to forget that he even dreamt that in the first place.

 _Whatever, it doesn't even mean anything_ , _it's just a stupid dream_ , he kept telling himself.

He finally got up, stretching to make sure to get all of those knots are out of his back, especially streaming all of his speed runs last night on twitch. He made his way downstairs to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast. Clay takes out his phone to check if anything happened last night, as usual; nothing new. Although it was 8:42 AM, he woke up earlier than usual.

Making his way to the fridge, he pulled out the ingredients to make an omelette. Eggs, oil, veggies, the essentials really. He took out a pan and placed it on top of the stove. The clicking and hissing of the gas oven turning on surprised him a little, since he hasn't had a lot time to cook for himself recently. As he's cooking his omelette he looks around his apartment.

He has so much he could ask for. A two story apartment, classy modern furniture, and he definitely isn't short on money either. Yet as he looks around, he feels a sense of emptiness inside himself. This emptiness is a dark abyss that's constantly threatening to consume him, it was hungry to consume him and nothing else. It's cruel nature made it way too easy to enter, but nearly impossible to escape. He let out a tired sigh.

Trying to get away from his thoughts, he chows down on his food, surprisingly it came out better than he had expected, at least that's one good thing. Now, what to do? He tries to remember if he had anything important to do. Clay loves to go by the saying: "If you forget something that's important, than it's not important." While pondering, he realizes something.

_Shit, George's video!_

He throws the dishes into the sink and runs his way up the stairs, nearly tripping on his way up to his room. He quickly turns on his computer and finds the video. He was way too distracted by George yesterday that he lost track of literally everything else. How can he be anymore stupid? He can't stop thinking about he fact that he probably pissed George off, he can't even watch a video and give his friend feedback. How could be mess up like this?

_So fucking stupid, can't even watch a video._

He puts aside his thoughts to focus on the task at hand. As he's watching, he can't stop gushing over the sound of George's voice. The way he pronounced his words, his adoring accent. It made his heart so happy. He wore a big smile during the whole video. The video was silly too, it was a video with Sapnap trying to beat minecraft with each jump increasing in height. Clay let out a chuckle every time George whined. As the video ended, he decided to text George. He felt bad that it took him so long to actually do what George asked him to do. Should he apologize? Or is that being dramatic? Clay looked at the screen fiddling with his thumbs wondering what to say.

After contemplating on wether he should apologize or not, he realized how ridiculous he's being and just typed out a response. 

**Clay**

Good morning georgie. Sorry it took me awhile to get back to you about the video.

But it was good! Honestly there was nothing wrong with it, i wouldn't change anything. 

Well that was easier than expected. Without much thought, Clay decided to distract himself and watch some Netflix. He put on his favorite show and watched. During the episode he heard his phone go off. He grabbed his phone off his desk and checked what was up. It was George. 

**Georgie**

It's like 2 pm here haha 

Clay let out a loud laugh followed by the sensation of his face warming up from the small embarrassment.

 _I'm so dumb,_ Clay shook his head and read the rest of the message. 

**Georgie**

Good morning tho lol, and don't worry about it. Thanks for letting me know about the vid.

Also are up for streaming like right now? 

Clay stood up in excitement, like a little kid watching the ice cream truck pulling up to the park with a couple of dollars scrunched in his hand anticipating the sweet cold taste of ice cream on a hot summer day. He quickly replied to George.

**Clay**

Yeah! I'll get on discord in a second! I'll message you there when i'm ready. 

After a minute, George sent him a text back. Clay smiled once again. 

**Georgie**

Alright sounds good to me see you in a sec 

Clay rushed over to his closet, since he sleeps with nothing expect with his boxers on, he might as well feel productive in some way by putting on some clothes. He threw on some shorts and a t-shirt and jumped into his chair and got on discord. They spent the next couple of hours playing on their survival world and some Hypixel games. Per usual, both of them had a fun time, letting out laughs, joking around and teasing each other. Once they ended their live streams, they decided to talk on discord for a little while.

"Well, that was a successful stream wasn't it dream?" George said jokingly.

Clay chuckled, "Yeah I guess it was." Clay wanted to take the conversation further, but how? Should he ask if anything is new in his lif- George interrupted him mid thought.

"Hey, did you get around to finishing the manhunt video we recorded a the other day?" His words spewed with a genuine tone. Maybe that was all he was interested in talking about.

"Ahh no I didn't actually." Clay let out a laugh, "I haven't even started editing it yet."

George laughed along, "Haha that's understandable, don't worry about it, also can I tell you something?"

Clays chest began beating profusely.

_Can I tell you something? What does that even mean?_

His entire body began to shake a little. He felt his body heating up from the inside, rapidly making its way to the outside. What could George possible say next? And why ask him in that way? Was he hiding something? Oh god what could it be.

Hesitantly Clay replied, "U-uh, yeah sure, what is it?" He felt his palms get sweaty. Why is this making him so nervous?

George finally spoke the words Clay was so scared to hear. "So Nick and I have been talking about it, kind of as a joke at first, but we thought it actually might be a good idea. We were thinking that we could all meet up finally. Maybe we can invite Darryl and Zak and some of Nicks friends. We actually thought of going to Florida where you're at, and renting a beach house or something since it's summer. Nothing has been official yet but we wanted to get your input. I really want us to meetup, it's been too long."

A wave of emotions came over Clay, he couldn't process any of them. It was a concoction of relief, excitement, nerves, fright and happiness. George really wanted to meet him? What would he wear? What would they do? How would they interact in real life and not through a mic? So many questions were spinning inside his head, it made him nervous, his stomach was turning. He thought about what to say, but he needed to be fast.

Clay exclaimed, "Oh my gosh yes! That would be awesome! We should totally meet up, that would be so much fun. And a beach house? I'm one-hundred percent down for that, we could all split it or something, and let me guess, that was Nick's idea?"

George let out a laugh, "Ahaha yeah it was, I thought he was crazy, but I actually thought about it and It didn't seem like a bad idea." he chuckled his way through that sentence. Clay's previous mixture of emotions morphed into excitement and happiness.

"When do you wanna do this?" Clay asked.

"I don't know, we can always talk about this later, it's just an idea for now, if anything we should get everyone's input. But me and Nick thought maybe next month or so. We thought it would take some time to figure everything out."

"Yeah yeah I get you. George!!! Are we really gonna meet up?! I'm so excited!" Clay couldn't have been any more happier. He sounded like a little kid.

"Yes! We're going to make this happen." George reassured him. "Well Clay, its kinda late here and I'm tired now, I'll talk to you later."

Clay had forgotten about the time change, it was around 10 pm there. He didn't want George to go, but it would be selfish of him to ask him to stay.

"Okay, goodnight, I'll text you later." Clay said in a happy tone.

"Alright byeee." Right after saying his goodbye George hung up the call.

Clay got up and stretched his whole body for a good couple of minutes. He didn't want to get all worked up about it. He spent the rest of the day editing the manhunt video he recored with George. The entire time he watched the video and editing it, the thought of actually meeting George lingered in the back of this head. He managed to suppress these feelings for now for the sake of actually making progress on his video.

After a while he checked his phone to look at the time. 1:13 AM. His entire room was consumed with darkness, with the only thing illuminating the room was his blaring computer screen and the moonlight that managed to seep it's way through the curtains. He got up, deciding it was time to finally get some sleep. Again he stretched his entire body. He took off his shirt and shorts and threw them into the closet, his clothes landing right next to the laundry basket.

He climbed into his bed, getting under the soft blankets. Then it finally all stared to sink in.

He was going to meet George. This made him increasingly nervous. He should be excited that he was going to meet his best friend of many years, but he was scared. What if George doesn't like him? What is he going to say when they meet for the first time? What's going to happen at the beach house? Millions of questions and scenarios played in his head simultaneously. Clay started to get dizzy, the abyss was right below him ready to consume him. He felt his heart beating faster. He still hasn't confronted his feelings. He stared at the dark ceiling.

_Why do I feel this way? I don't love George. What the fuck, no that's weird. Please stop, please. Get out of my head, he's just a friend. He's just a friend. Why is this so hard._

_There's no way I actually love George, right? No no no no no. No stop, this isn't possible._

Clay closed his eyes and placed his hands on his head, tugging at his hair. He whispered to himself, "No, no, no, no stop it." He let out a sharp sigh in frustration. He laid on his bed in anger and confusion.

This is supposed to be fun, his friend of many years was going to meet him. Why is this so difficult to digest? This shouldn't be an issue, but it was. Clay propped himself on his bed, he stared into the darkness not knowing what to do. Once again George, that cute face, crept inside his head again. He imagined him laying beside him. Clay got under the covers again and brought his pillow to his bare chest. His feelings and thoughts about George was becoming too much for him. As he looked into the darkness that resembles the depths of the ocean, or a never ending abyss, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

_Maybe I do love George._


	3. Surprise

A continuous ringing pulsed throughout the apartment, filling the air. Only a couple seconds go by before the ringing comes back. Clay shuffled around in his bed, not paying much enough attention to it.

_It's probably the bank or something._

Closing his eyes, he slowly drifts into sleep again.

Clay's phone lights up again, filling the silence with it's persistent ringing. He opened his eyes, giving into it's attention. He glances at the caller ID, it was George who was the one who was calling him.

_GEORGE?!_

A nervous sweat started to build up on his face. His body quickly was covered in a pale read. As fast as he could he accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" he answered in a concerned tone. He thought something must of happened, why would George be calling him so much? What could he need?

"Uh yeah, I've been trying to get your attention for the last couple of minutes. Sleepy much?" Clay looked over at his alarm clock. 1:56 pm. To be fair, sleeping in was something that he's been doing lately, it occupied from his feelings of isolation in his own apartment. Nothing could save him from embarrassment at this point, now he looks lazy.

"Oh sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night. What's going on?"

Quickly, George gave him an answer. "Get on discord, Nick and I have to talk about the beach house and stuff." Now everything makes sense, it'd be strange if George had called him for any other reason.

"Okay give me a sec." Shortly after, he hung up the call. It only took him a couple of seconds to jump onto his computer and join the call George was referring too. Clay was greeted by Nicks roaring voice.

"Clay!!! What's up my man?! How have you been dude?" He could sense the smile Nick had, it was a dose of serotonin he desperately needed. Suddenly, a sense guilt started to seep into his skin. Clay never really reaches out to Nick, or really anyone else in that matter. How could he be so selfish? George was the only person he could think about. He felt like an abuser, constantly neglecting the people he's supposed to protect, to take care of. A frown took control of his face.

"Hey! I've been good, I've been good." He tried everything he could in his power to cover up the discomfort in his voice. He continued to ask, "How are _you_?"

Nick in his classic lively voice replied, "Pretty good if I say so myself! I'm doing even better because guess what?"

_Guess what? Oh god, what could it possibly be._

Clay instantly became shaky. Not being given much time to think he replies, "What?"

"We got the beach house dude! Let's go!" He could hear laughs of joy coming form George paired with Nicks laughter. Disbelief rapidly filled his brain. He couldn't believe it. It felt like someone had hit his head with a bat, leaving him completely dumbfounded. "What?! Already? What happened?."

"Nick and I already had some houses picked out and we contacted the owners, basically the house that we got was going to be rented at the time we originally wanted to meet up so we got it a bit earlier. We basically didn't have any other choice."

Nick happily added "Yeah it's awesome, it's a beach front so we're right next to the beach, also it's in Orlando by the way so lucky you. It looks like there's a lot of fun things to do near by so I'm pretty excited." There was so much to process, it's almost as if his brain became desensitized - not knowing how to feel his emotions that were drowning his head.

"Wait what?" nothing but a disoriented tone dripped from Clay's words.

"Haha, you okay there buddy?" Nick jokingly asked.

His head was spinning. "Yeah, yeah i'm okay, I'm just so shocked right now. Wasn't this just an idea like, four days ago?" he was genuinely confused. A couple of minutes ago, it made sense as to why George was calling him, but now everything flipped. He couldn't grasp anything. 

After what seemed like ages, George finally spoke. "I mean yeah, but now it's the real thing! Aren't you excited!?"

"Of course I am you guys! This is going by so fast. Also, how soon is this again?" Clay closed his eyes, hoping that he would hear something reasonable, a time frame that could let him prepare himself for the inevitable.

George gave him an answer. "Hmm, like a week and a half from today."

The world stopped, silence consumed his reality. Clay felt his eyes widen. The deep pumping of his heart could make him throw up.

_A week and a half?_

He didn't know how to respond, his mind was too focused on trying not to get sick. His brain couldn't decide whether he felt angry, disoriented, happy or nervous. Maybe it was a combination of everything.

"What?! That soon?!" Clay suddenly realized how angry he sounded, he tried to save himself. "That's crazy! I'm so excited!" He threw in a forced laugh to top it off.

"We're excited too," George reassured him. Well it seemed like the change of tone Clay used to save himself worked, great, one thing less to worry about.

"Wait, so who's all coming?"

Nick answered Clay's curiosity, "Well us three, Darryl, Zak and two of my close friends, if that's okay." Of course he'd let Nick's friends come, but with the guilt he felt about neglecting him; maybe he should let him know that he can invite whoever he wants - nothing bad could come out of that right?

"Yeah that's fine! You can bring whoever you want, it's all of our vacation. I'd love to meet your friends." Clay felt a little better, hopefully Nick felt good too.

"Haha alright awesome."

George chimed into the conversation, "Yeah so I'll text you all the important details later, now all that's left for us to do is for us get ready for the big day."

"Yeah!" Nick cheered.

They spent the next hour or so talking about the important details of the trip and all the things they could do. Although everything they talked about seemed fun, Clay was terrified. How was he supposed to act around George? What would they talk about? These kind of questions polluted his every thought during his conversation with Nick and George.

After saying their goodbyes on the call, Clay sat in his chair. He didn't know what to do with himself, the only thing he could feel is his chest beating so hard he could feel it in his throat.

His nervousness turned into hate. He hated himself. Why can't this be easy? Meeting your friends should be something to be excited about, and yet for some reason he managed to turn it into something that he couldn't face. How could he possibly meet George - how can he look him in the face knowing that he loves him; and to top it off, knowing George doesn't love him back. It was like a cruel joke, the world pinned up against him, enjoying watching him suffer trying to escape the heavy waves trapping him, only for someone to grab him by the face and take him under again.

"Fuck," Clay muttered under his heavy breath. A sudden shock wave traveled throughout his entire body.

_A week and a half._

He needed to look his best, he needed new clothes, swim wear, supplies; there were too many things to prepare for. Clay decided to stop wallowing in his thoughts and took action to actually take the first step into progress. He walked over to his closet, threw on some clothes and made his way downstairs. Grabbing his car keys, he realized he hasn't eaten anything yet.

_Hm, I can get something along the way or something._

The door shutting made him jump a little. Jeez, how long has it been since the last time he actually left the apartment? The drive to Target went as usual, besides the thought of George creeping in his head every once in a while. After circling the parking lot for a minute or two he finally found a parking spot, it was little further then he had in mind, but he settled for the spot.

As the automatic doors swooshed opened, the bright fluorescent lights that filled the store blinded him. He felt like a vampire stepping outside into the sunlight for the first time.

Making his way inside Clay let out a relieved sigh, there wasn't too many people in the store. As a kid, Clay was always the shy one, it took him awhile to open up to people, and as an adult, he's still the same way. He decided to look around for a bit, taking his time wandering throughout the store.

_Maybe I should look for some clothes._

He made his way over to men's wear. Target had some pretty nice clothes for the reasonable price, and it fit his style well; casual and simple, he didn't really care too much for fancy clothes or over priced clothing. He picked out some different colored t-shirts, black tank tops, summer shorts. As he's looking at the many selections, he remembers;

_Oh I need a new pair of swimming shorts._

Clay blushed at the thought of seeing George in a summing suit. His whole face turned red. He tried to shake his head to get away from that image, thankfully he stumbled upon the section of swimming shorts. There was actually a wide variety to choose from. Clay really wanted to impress George -

_Impress? The fuck does that mean? No no, I just wanna look my best, that's all._

God, only Clay could find a way to embarrass himself, at least there wasn't anyone around to see his red face. He stood there thinking which one he'd look the best in. Clay wasn't _that_ insecure about his body. I mean he doesn't have a ripped body like the men he see's on the magazines. Although, he doesn't have abs either. A bummed frown grew on him. He fiddled with his fingers, feeling insecure about himself.

_No, let's be reasonable here. I'm toned ... I think, but not ripped, and that's okay._

His brain became a broken record player, repeating itself over and over again trying to get the message across. Clay found himself feeling a little better; well, looked like that worked. Now, back to the task at hand. He thought it may be a good idea to try something new. His eyes locked onto a pair he liked: a plain green, above above the knee swimming shorts. It looked form fitting, it also meant to show off the thighs. He smiled looking at them, he knew those were the one's. The green also seemed fitting, it paralleled his minecraft skin. He threw them into the cart.

After spending way too much time on a pair of shorts, Clay finally went to pick up the other essentials: sunscreen, shampoo, conditioners and other hygiene products - nothing that made him too interested. He checked his phone, he realized that he had already spent over an hour shopping.

_Damn, it's already been an hour?_

The rest of the shopping trip went normal. He brought his items to the register, then loaded his items into his car and left. Looking out the window he noticed how beautiful the sky was. The sun was coming down and filled the sky with it's array of oranges, blues and pinks. It resembled the dream he had about George and the date he took him on almost a week ago.

_Stop, stop it._

Overthinking about George and the trip they were going to have is the last thing he needs. He cranked the volume up on the stereo to distract himself. The pounding music made his head hurt.

After making turns left and right he finally he made it back to his apartment. He unloaded his stuff into his apartment, he surprisingly only made one trip - making him feel proud. He placed his stuff on the kitchen table and went upstairs. He puffed out a heavy breath when he jumped onto his bed.

_A week and a half._

He couldn't stop it anymore. Everything that he was so hesitant to deal with was becoming a reality; meeting George, seeing his friends. It was all hurtling towards him like a dodge ball, and he didn't know how to dodge it; it hit him in the face and he couldn't figure out how to deal with the pain. Clay covered his eyes not knowing what to do. With every second passing by, he became more upset. His breathing became more heavy.

_Why can't I stop this, please. Why am I overthinking everything. I should be happy. I'm gonna meet all my friends._

A crazy idea popped inside his mind.

_Should I call George? ..._

But what could he possibly talk to George about? He thought about it for a minute.

_I should at least tell him about how nervous I am about the whole situation._

_No that's stupid._

Clay let out a groan in frustration. He didn't know what to do, he didn't want to make George worry or feel bad about the whole thing. As he's laying in his bed, the choice whether to call or not to call George tortured him. It felt like as if there were two people pulling on his arms to force him to make a decision.

_Fuck it._

Clay reached over to his phone and dialed George's number.

He hesitantly looked at the screen, debating if he should even go through with it. He gave in and finally hit the call button.


	4. Worried

Content Warning: Child Abuse

\----------------------------

The clock read 3:03 am. The time left George unbothered, he was used to staying up all hours of the night. The job of being a full time Minecraft Youtuber ruined his sleeping schedule, but he wasn't too mad about it. He looked at his channel and was glad to see that the manhunt vs speedrunner he recorded with Clay was doing well.

 _Clay_ _._

Recently something was off about Clay, he wasn't acting like he used to. George pondered what it could possibly be. Was something bothering him? _Something_ was off about him, they way he spoke and texted, his energy didn't match his previous self. George thought about the possibility that it could be him. Was he bothering George? George laid further back into his chair.

_Am I a bad friend? Should I talk to him?_

Talk to him about what? Their feelings? George found that thought reluctant. Yes they were close friends, but George found it strange to talk about something so personal, especially with someone he's rarely had personal conversations with. It was difficult to read Clay, George wished he could get inside his head. Although, he remembers how Clay would talk about how he's an emotional person.

 _Yeah, if Clay really needed help he'd reach out_ _._

 _There's nothing to worry about_ _._

Well maybe he _is_ a bad friend. Was it wrong for him to sit there and _know_ something is off about his best friend and not do anything about it? These questions left George rather confused. He never thought about someone so much, especially worrying about their mental health.

 _I'm sure everything will be okay._ George reassured himself.

With nothing else to do, he opened up Netflix and watched a movie. While watching the movie he heard something play in the background. He came to the conclusion that it was probably from the movie. After a couple of seconds he realized that it was a ringing sound. Confused, he quickly took off his headset, realizing it was his phone ringing. Someone was calling him.

_Who the hell is calling me this late?_

He rushed over to the other side of the room where his phone was charging. He unplugged his phone and looked to see who it was.

_Clay?_

George answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey George, how are you?" George slowly walked over to his bed and sat down. Clay sounded different. Clay had to have known how late it is here, right?

"Hey, what's up?" He didn't know what else to ask. He didn't want to make it weird.

"I'm okay, can I talk to you about something?" Clay's tone was more serious than normal. George suddenly became nervous. He didn't know what to think.

"Yeah, what's going on?" George forced a light expression in the way he spoke, trying to ease the unusual tension building up between the phone call.

He heard Clay release a deep sigh, "I don't really know how to go about this, sorry if this is weird," There was a slight pause between his words. "I guess I just want to let you know how I feel about this whole vacation thing." George heard the struggle Clay was having to speak, but he didn't want to interrupt him. "I'm really excited to finally meet everyone, but,"

_But?_

_"_ I guess, I just want to let you know that I'm really nervous about it." George was instantly relieved, he thought he messed up big time, or made Clay angry.

_Wait, why would he be nervous? I should ask._

"Clay, there's nothing to be nervous about. Why are you nervous about it?" He was genuinely curious, but confused.

Clay let out another sigh, but it sounded sad, "I don't really know, I just am. I guess since everything is going by so fast it just caught me off guard. So if I act weird or anything, just know it's probably my nerves."

"Clay I'm sorry, if you really had an issue with the date we could've just-" George was interrupted by Clay's quick response.

"No no no please, don't be sorry about it. I don't want you to feel bad or anything, that's not the reason why I called you. I just wanted to let you know how I feel about everything, that's all."

"Okay, well I appreciate you telling me that. Now I understand." Maybe this is what George should've been doing to begin with, being a better friend. George grew upset with himself.

"Can I ask you something?" Clay asked.

"Yeah go ahead."

"Who paid for everything?"

George already knew how Clay was going to respond. Maybe he can come up with a lie.

 _Ugh, that's a bad idea._ He knew it would catch up with him eventually. It would be better if he was honest. 

"I did." George admitted.

George braced himself, "George! Why would you do that?!" George smiled.

"I didn't want anyone to worry about it, I just wanted to take care of it and it's fine." The conversation began to move quickly.

"How much was it?" Clay's intense tone stayed consistent.

George told him how much, it was expensive.

"No, absolutely not, George that's ridiculous."

George tried to defend himself, "It's okay! please don't worry about it! Leave it be, please." There was a sudden silence.

"Hello?" George asked.

"One sec."

"Okay?"

"Okay, check your PayPal."

George internally groaned. His computer screen lit up the dark room. He opened his PayPal to see a large sum of money from Clay, enough to pay for his ticket and half of the beach house.

"Clay please don't, that's not necessary, I'm refunding the money-" Clay cut him off.

Clay returned to his serious tone that George wasn't used to, "George! Don't refund me the money, please. Let me do this, I seriously don't feel comfortable with you spending so much money, please George." George flinched at Clay scolding him. He knew Clay wasn't actually angry at him, but he could understand where he was coming from.

"Okay fine, thank you." George smiled.

"You don't have to thank me. Well, I should probably let you sleep. What time is it over there?"

George was hesitant to answer, he didn't want to make Clay feel bad for making him stay up late. He also didn't want to cut him short from wanting to talk about anything else.

"Almost four."

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. Well, okay then. Thank you for letting me talk to you, I really appreciate it."

George smiled, "Hey, you don't have to be sorry. And of course, I'm always here if you need me buddy."

"Okay, goodnight George."

"Goodnight."

George heard Clay hang up the call. George let out a heavy breath. He couldn't help but wonder what was going on with his friend. At first he tried to downplay it, but something wasn't adding up. Maybe George has some working on himself to do; maybe how he comes across is bothering Clay, or how he doesn't connect with him personally.

George took of his clothes and headed into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, washed his face and went back to his bed. The sensation of his weighted blanket resembled the presence of someone hugging him, holding him tight.

George hated dealing with the reason why he stays up so late. He was lonely. He didn't have much family to run to, or anyone else in that matter. He enjoyed staying up late; no one else is awake, no one had expectations, no one could pick on him, he could escape so much pain that burdened him his entire life. The bullying, the judgement, the abuse his father-

_No._

George shut his eyes tight, trying to forget.

_Please no._

Tears began flowing down is cheeks. He tried to fight the tears, but they wouldn't stop. He wanted someone to hold onto. He wanted to pour his heart onto someone, but there wasn't anyone he could run to. George laid in his bed quietly sobbing into his blanket.

After a while the tears finally stopped. This was a routine, something George was way used too. He wanted the meetup to come faster, he wanted to escape his thoughts and surround himself with people that made him happy.

The exhaustion from staying up so late finally caught up to him. George closed his eyes and slowly drifted into sleep, hoping someone was there with him.


	5. Anticipation

Clay's alarm clock went off exactly at 7 am sharp, his eyes shot open, perfectly synchronized with the timing. The pale ceiling filled his entire view. The loud buzzing from the clock continued for a couple more seconds before he finally reached over and turned it off. He got up and sat on the side of the bed. A minute goes by before he finally confronts what's going to happen later today.

Clay let's out a deep heavy sigh, closing his eyes.

_Today's the day._

There was so much to do with so little time to wrap his head around it. He's going to meet George, look him in the eyes, feel him, actually talk face to face. Nerves started kick in full gear, he bounced his leg up and down to help ease his nerves, but it didn't work. He felt his stomach turning, his body heating up. He could explode.

_Relax. Relax._

Clay took a couple minutes trying to distress himself. Taking a couple deep breaths in and out helped a little. He finally opened his eyes, he glances all over his room until his eyes landed on his luggage.

_Shit. I have to get ready._

He quickly got up, feeling his head spin a little. It took him a couple of seconds for his head to stabilize. As soon he could think properly again he made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and waited for it to heat up. In the mean time, Clay looked at himself in the mirror.

He looked at his features, his green eyes, eyebrows, nose. He wondered if George was even remotely attracted to him. I mean, George knows what he looks like, but all he can remember him saying is; _"You look ... okay"_ , then followed by his laughter. Clay looked further down the mirror, placing his eyes on his torso.

_Am I too fat?_

He turned to the side, examining his body. Not knowing what to think anymore, he let out a groan. Clay went ahead and checked the water too see if it was the right temperature. He stuck his hand in, feeling the water droplets run down his hand; the water was at the temperature he liked.

He took his boxers off and stepped inside, feeling the warm water all around him. He closes his eyes trying to relax, attempting to wash away all the accumulated nerves, anxiety, and fear for what was going to happen later that day. He still couldn't stop thinking.

_What the hell am I supposed to say? "Hey Georgie," No what the fuck that's stupid. "Hey dude!" No, that's way too forced._

He had to be perfect, he needed to give off the best first impression he could give - well, the best first _in person_ impression. As he shampooed his hair, he still couldn't stop thinking about him. He thought maybe if he scrubbed hard enough he could get George out of his head. He got lost in his thoughts once again.

Clay smiled at the thought of seeing George in a bathing suit. He imagined his smooth skin, toned figure, his small frame. And just to top it all off, the image of George soaking wet made Clay blush. He felt a blood rush, then the sensation of something growing harder got his attention.

_Oh my god stop._

He was embarrassed, it felt like there was a crowd of people watching and laughing at him. He thought of anything to make it dissipate; his grandma, puppies, sapnap.

Well that seemed to work.

After finishing up, he stepped out, dried himself off and decided what to wear. He pleaded with himself not to overthink this. He forced himself to wear a simple t-shirt and above the knee shorts, since it was supposed to be hot out. What seems like out of nowhere, his stomach started grumbling asking to be fed. Clay made his way downstairs to the kitchen and fixed himself a bowl of cereal.

He wondered how George was doing. Maybe sending a text wouldn't hurt. Clay took out his phone and began to write out a message:

Hey george, i hope your flight goes well, be safe-

He instinctively backtracked and deleted the message. He didn't want to bother George.

_He's probably tired, I shouldn't message him._

Clay looked at the time. 8:26 am. He had some time to kill, although he didn't want to screw anything up. The beach house was about an hour drive from his apartment and he had the job to check in and get the keys before anyone else arrived. He washed the dishes and placed them to dry. Everything he needed for the trip was inside of his overly large suitcase and duffel bag.

He turned off all the lights, grabbed his keys, luggage and went to his car. He threw his bags in the back and slammed the door shut.

Clay didn't want to pull out of the driveway. He knew with every inch he'd drive, he'd get an inch closer to George. He turned the keys into the ignition and turned on the car. He took a deep breath in and out, and proceeded to pull out of the driveway and drive.

He needed to distract himself from any thought of George polluting his mind. He connected his phone to the stereo and put on his playlist of all his favorite songs.

His mind stayed silent for the entire ride there, maybe a little too silent. At least he wasn't freaking out or overthinking. As he approached closer and closer to the destination, white beaches filled the entire coastline. The sky was full of a bright light blue, and the warm sun made every color he saw more vibrant then he was used too. Clay felt disconnected from the world around him. How can something so beautiful and breathtaking be right outside his door, and yet he decides to stay inside and get trapped inside his thoughts. He could never win, he felt like the world was against him.

His phone blurted out saying that his destination was a minute away. He was surprised that he didn't crash into something considering how far he was deep in his thoughts.

He pulled up to the receptionist building and stepped outside, the heat took him by surprise. When he stepped inside the building, the cold air hit him in the face. He couldn't catch a break. He looked around and spotted a kind looking middle-aged lady sitting behind a desk which most likely was the receptionist. George had put Clay's name on the contract since he helped pay for it, which made sense.

Making his way up to her and she greeted him first, "Hello! What can I help you with?" Her kind tone made him comfortable, she sounded like as if she knew him.

"Uh hello, yes I have a booking for today." he fumbled over his words.

"Great! May I have your name and phone number?" Clay told her all of his credentials for him to to receive the keys. She asked him the occasion for his stay and he explained his situation - creating some small talk. They laughed and after their small conversation she handed him the keys to the house.

"Alright then! I hope you and your friends have a nice stay!" she smiled at Clay.

"Thank you!" He smiled back at her, turned around and walked back to his car.

_Well that was easy._

He turned on the car and continued to drive towards the beach house. Clay couldn't take his eyes off the colorful beach and sky, it looked like a postcard or something out of a movie. After a couple minutes he finally arrived at the house, he looked at it in awe - it looked liked exactly what it looked like in the pictures. Clay unknowingly found himself relaxed and at ease, maybe he should come to the beach more often.

It was a two story white classic beach house with some modern touches. Green bushes with colorful flowers greeted him as he walked towards the entrance of the house. Walking inside he couldn't help himself but feel amazed, it was so beautiful. Clay smiled.

The vast windows allowed the sun to light up the entire house, there was no need for artificial lights. The decor felt cozy, but the large space in the dining area and kitchen gave him a comfortable space to breathe in. Between the dining area and kitchen is where the large glass doors led into the back. Clay decided to go back and see what else the house had to offer.

Opening the doors let in a warm breeze. This comforted Clay. There was a seating area and a fire pit waiting for someone to use it. Oh god, Clay couldn't help but wonder all the memories he was about to make. He just hoped they would be good ones. He sat down on the porch looking at the beach that was only a couple feet away from him. He closed his eyes and felt the warm air caress his face.

Clay wanted time to move faster, but he still felt like he wasn't ready. The thought of even looking at George's face made him anxious.

Clay got up and walked back inside the house. He grabbed his luggage and decided to look for a room. There was only five rooms and since Clay and George payed for everything, everyone decided that they'll get their own rooms.

_Should I stay upstairs or down here?_

He thought about it for a minute. Since there was only two rooms upstairs and the rest where on the main floor, Clay hoped that George would happen to get the second room upstairs. For some reason he felt like he needed to be close to George.

Behind the dining area is where the stair case led to the second floor. It morphed into a hallway where the two doors were. One door one the right side and other on the left. They almost faced each other directly, but they were off by a couple feet. Clay peeked inside both rooms; they were pretty much identical despite the beach-y décor varying from one another. Clay choose the room on the left, hoping that George would end up with the room on the right.

He put his bags on the floor and took out his stuff and began organizing. They were only here for a week and they needed to make the best out of it. After occupying himself with his clothes, Clay decided to check the time. 11:46 am.

_Holy shit._

Nick and his fiends were supposed to arrive around noon. Clay pulled down his notifications and realized he had missed several calls and texts from Nick.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

As fast as he could he called Nick. He sat there and heard the phone ring for a couple of seconds before he finally picked up.

"Dude?! Where have you been?! I thought you were dead! Are you at the beach house what's going on?" Clay wasn't even sure if he remembered all the questions Nick asked him but he tried to answer all of them.

"Yeah yeah! I'm here I'm here. I'm so sorry dude, I was really busy and I guess I just got caught up in everything, but don't worry I'm here." Clay stuttered almost every other word.

"Haha you're okay man don't worry about it, so our plane landed about an hour ago and we're driving there now, we should arrive like at 12:30'ish something like that." Clay tried to calm himself down after hearing Nick's words.

"Okay, awesome! Well I'll be waiting here, can't wait to see you and your friends."

"Alrighty then, see you in a bit! Bye!"

"Bye." Shortly after, Clay heard Nick hang up the call.

Clay found the living room and laid down on the couch. Time felt slow. As nervous as he felt, he couldn't wait for everyone to arrive. He kept thinking positive thoughts.

He could hear the waves crashing in the distance, making him relaxed. His heart beat started to slow down, he closed his eyes.

Clay could feel himself falling asleep, until a notification sound suddenly made him wide awake.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked to see what was happened.

_Oh it's the just the group chat._

He took a second look to see who it was from. It was from George.

He read the line of text, his heart dropped.

 **Simps** 😎

**Georgie**

Hey guys i have a little bit of an issue.


	6. Anxious

Clay glared at his phone confused. His thumbs reached over to type a message, but he saw the three bubbles come from Nick before Clay could even type out a message. 

**Nick**

What happened? Is everything okay?

It was the exact same message that Clay had planned on sending. His legs started to bounce up and down, he felt his heart beat a little faster. What was taking George so long?

He saw George typing, but it was taking a bit longer than usual, Clay felt his anxiety growing. George's message finally came through. 

**Georgie**

Okay so basically earlier today my plane got delayed by a couple hours because of weather so I had to go on another plane. I won't arrive in florida until 10 or 11pm i think? I'm on my flight right now. Sorry that I wasn't able to message you guys i was really busy dealing with everything. 

_No, no no why?_

Clay looked at the screen blankly. He was upset. Of course this had to happen, there was no way this trip was going to go smoothly that he had hoped for - he knew something eventually would try to mess it up. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up.

Clay decided to respond, trying to make sense out of the situation. 

**Clay**

Its okay George don't worry about it. If you need something or anything else happens just message us We'll be waiting for you   
  


There was nothing else to do but wait for George's response. Clay let out a defeated sigh. Everything he mentally planned out was thrown out the window. Did the universe not want them meeting each other? Is this a sign? Clay flopped down on the couch again, looking out one of the windows. A dinging sound came from his phone. George answered his response. 

**Georgie**

Okay, i'll see you guys later :)

Clay put his hand on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. This probably wasn't healthy, constantly thinking about someone, not being to think straight. There was no way this was good for his heart. He wondered if he was normal, there was no way anyone else on this earth could be so wrapped around someone else like Clay was about George.

He felt his throat beginning to swell up, his heart sinking further down. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Clay was fighting, fighting these stupid feelings. He closed his eyes shut, trying to erase his feelings for George - it didn't work.

Clay gasped as he heard his phone ringing. Nick was calling him. He cleared his throat and answered the call.

"Hello-" Nick interrupted him mid sentence.

"Bro come outside we're about to pull up!"

"Oh oka-" Nick hung up the call. His feelings of sadness morphed into excitement. Clay jumped up from the couch and ran to the front driveway. He waited patiently for a minute until he saw a car driving towards the house.

 _Oh god._ Butterflies roamed around inside of his stomach.

The car pulled up in the driveway. It got closer and closer and before Clay could even process it. The car parked in the drive way, right in front of him.

Nick swung the car door open and jumped out. They made eye contact for what seems like forever until,

"Clay! My man!" Nick ran towards him and they embraced each other. Clay couldn't have felt anymore happier. He couldn't help but laugh and smile.

"It's so good to finally see you! How are you?" All the worry and anxiety Clay felt all day seemed to disappear.

"I'm great! How are _you_?!" Clay couldn't help but notice how much shorter Nick actually was from him.

"I'm awesome dude," Nick noticed Clay look over his shoulder. Two unfamiliar faces looked at him. "Oh yeah! So these are my friends. Clay, this is Alex and Lucas. Alex, Lucas, this is Clay." Clay took out his hand and shook Alex and Lucas's hands respectively.

"Uh hey, hi it's very nice to meet you," Clay noticed how fidgety Alex was.

_Jeez do I make people that nervous?_

He often forgets about how internet famous he was - he never really thought that he was that special or talented, he really just wanted to fit in with everyone else. The nerves that Clay could see coming from Nick's friends was weird to him.

Clay moved his eyes to Lucas's. "Hi, nice to meet you, I'm a fan of your videos." Clay thanked and smiled at them. They looked friendly. Alex was a little bit shorter than Clay, almost the same height. He had light brown hair and blue eyes, that was a combination Clay wasn't used to seeing. Lucas on the other hand was around the same height as Nick, shorter than Alex. He had blonde hair and hazel eyes. He felt comfortable around them. With everything going on with George and his flight, Nick and his friends made everything seem just a little bit better.

"Well let's go inside, what are we waiting for?" Nick motioned everyone to follow him. Walking inside, Clay smiled at seeing everyone's reaction to the beautiful beach house.

"Damn, this place is nice." Nick looked around like a little kid at a museum.

"Guys! look at the beach, it's so close." Alex pointed at the massive windows.

Clay took it upon himself to show them around the house. He showed them where the kitchen was, Nick kept cracking jokes, making everyone laugh. Clay had to tell Nick to stop because it made his stomach hurt. They made their way to the dining area, nick pointed out his big the table was.

"That's a fat ass table." Nicks friends laughed.

"Stop! Date it then." Clay cackled.

"Shut up loser." They all giggled and moved to the living room. Nick went on an monologue about all the drinking games they could play.

Clay looked at Nick, "Aren't you 12?"

"Aren't you 50?" Nick retaliated. Clay playfully rolled his eyes.

"Wait could we actually, you know, have fun?" Clay was genuinely surprised.

"What?! Like drinking?" He looked at Nick wide eyed.

"Yeah why not, you only live once! Alex is 22 he can get us some, please!" Nick playfully begged him.

Clay laughed and looked at Alex, "Would you be comfortable with that?"

"Yeah! Definitely." Alex looked a little nervous.

"Okay, but we'll have to wait for everyone's input," there was a slight pause, then awkward silence, "So, when is Zak and Darryl going to get here?"

"I think around two o'clock, they'll text us when they're coming."

"Okay, cool." Clay nodded, he looked at Nick for a couple of seconds until the awkward silence came back. Clay found it so much harder to create conversation in real life than it was over discord, his shyness certainly didn't help. He hoped they would loosen up and get more comfortable when everyone else arrived. He didn't know what else to say, thankfully Nick started to say something.

"Oh! we should probably choose a room now."

 _Oh shit. Fuck, what should I say?_ He couldn't let any of them choose the room upstairs, he just couldn't. He needed George to be there. He quickly became nervous.

"Oh, yeah, um," Should he even mention that there's even a room upstairs? Of course he should, it's a two story house for god's sake. He didn't want to look like he was trying to hide something. But what would they even think? That he want's the other room for George because he has a crush on him or something? Of course not. Or, would they?

"There's three rooms down here and, two upstairs. I choose one upstairs. So yeah." He prayed for them to say the right answer. He waited, bracing for impact. 

Nick opened his lips, "Oh cool, I mean I could take the other one upstairs."

_No, no no no no. Please no._

Despair took over his entire body. His heart became heavy, sinking lower and lower. He tried everything in his power to cover up the disappointment on his face. Lucas suddenly entered into the conversation.

"Didn't you say that Zak and Darryl were going to share a room? Isn't there only like five rooms?" Clay anxiously darted his eyes back and forth at all three of them, hoping something good would come out of this. He almost flinched at seeing Nick opening his mouth to speak.

"Oh yeahhh. Oh Clay? You and George paid for everything didn't you?"

Clay didn't realize that he was asked a question. A couple seconds went by before he finally processed what just happened. "Oh! Yeah, yeah we did."

Realization came over Nick. "Ohh yeah! That's right, I just remembered that we all decided that you guys should get your own rooms. Lucas and I can share a room, then Darryl and Zak are sharing a room, then you and George get your room. Then that's four rooms, oh, Alex I guess you get a room to yourself!"

Alex sounded surprised, "Oh, okay then, that's fine by me!" Clay's anxiety started to slowly dissipate. Although, there was still Zak and Darryl to choose a room.

_Okay, everything is gonna be okay._

"That sounds good to me, here, I'll show you where the rooms are." Clay led to them to the bedrooms. He watched them as they walked in and place their luggage across the floor.

"Well, I guess I'll let you guys get settled, Let me know if you need anything."

"Okay sweet." Nick shouted.

Clay walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. He let out a sigh that he was holding in for a while.

 _Jeez get a fucking grip._ He felt like he was losing control again, letting his emotions get the best of him. Was he seriously getting all worked up over a room? What was the benefit of having George right across from him? Nothing. It was his stupid feelings. With nothing else to do, he took his phone out and scrolled on Twitter and Instagram, interchanging between the two. He purposely avoided any fan art or pictures that involved George, he didn't even want to picture him inside of his head; because if he did, well, he would probably start his stupid episodes of panicking and overthinking. Ten minutes went by until he heard Nick say something.

"We're all done."

Clay looked up from his phone, "Oh okay, cool." He honestly didn't know what else to respond with.

"So! What should we do?" He thought about what to say for a little bit.

"Uh, I don't know, we should probably wait until Zak and Darryl get here."

"That's true." They all sat down at the kitchen table. Conversation instantly broke out about how Nick was really excited to see everyone, everyone seemed to agree. They discussed everything they could do. Clay went on about many local restaurants they could check out, things they could sight see, he also mentioned a beach-amusement park he saw when driving to the house. Even though they were vacationing, Nick pointed out how he really just wanted to spend time with everyone. The conversation shifted to Alex and Lucas. He found out how they all became friends, and as Clay expected - through Minecraft.

Alex and Lucas were friends since middle school and they met Nick through a Minecraft server. Lucas expressed how he is also into computer coding for video games, he was actually taking courses on creating video games himself. Clay and Lucas bonded over this. Clay asked Alex what he was up to in life, Alex let him know that he was currently enrolled in college for business, and that he's been playing Minecraft for years now. They all continued to talk for what seems like forever until Nick received a call from Zak.

"Hello?" There were pauses between his words, everyone looked at Nick, "Oh! Okay then! Bye." All eyes were still laying on Nick.

"They're coming!" Nick cheered.

"Oh awesome!" Clay felt happy again. His heart smiled.

They talked for another while until they heard a car pull up into the driveway. The sound of two car doors shutting followed.

_Oh shit that was fast._

"I'll get it!" Nick ran to the door and opened it. "Heyyyy!" He saw Nick hugging Zak, then Darryl. Clay shot up from his chair and walked over to all the commotion.

"Darryl!"

"Muffin!" They embraced each other. Darryl had been there for Clay through some tough times in his life. He really appreciated him. Having him on this trip made everything so much better.

Clay moved his attention to Zak, "Hey dude! Nice to finally meet you man!" They hugged each other for a brief second.

"Haha nice to see you dude! Jeez, you're so tall!" Zak's laugh resonated throughout the entire house. Clay laughed along besides him. Nick's friends came over and greeted both Zak and Darryl. As routine, Clay showed them around the house. Darryl pointed out how beautiful the house was and how gigantic the windows were. Zak expressed how excited he was to go swimming in the ocean.

"Oh, we should probably put our stuff in our room." Darryl mentioned.

 _Oh fuck, not this again._ It felt like déjà vu, everything seemed to repeat himself; the panic, the nerves. This was it, if they choose the room upstairs, Clay wouldn't know how to even process anything moving forward, he just needed George to be there.

Nick chimed in, "There's an extra room down here, I can show it to you."

"Oh okay nice, sounds good" Darryl responded. Everyone followed Nick into the rooms, Clay stayed behind.

The weight of the entire universe and more was lifted from Clay's shoulders. He let out a relieved sigh. His heart rate slowly decreased, his nerves started to calm down. He could finally think again, his breathing became normal. He closed his eyes for a second, feeling thankful this worry was over. He quickly opened his eyes realizing how dramatic he was being.

_It's just a stupid room._

He sat down at the nearest seat. Clay heard some distant laughter coming from the room everyone was in. He wondered how George was doing. Was he even nervous in the slightest? Was he excited? He just wanted to hug him, feel him, kiss him. Clay blushed. God, he just wanted all these nerves to go away.

"Alright!" Clay jumped at Nick's voice. "I think we should order some food or something, I'm freaking starving." Come to think of it, the last time Clay ate was in the morning, he was pretty hungry.

"What should we get?" Clay asked.

Zak suggested an option, "I say we get Chinese."

"Ooo, Chinese sounds really good." Darryl agreed with Zak.

Everyone was on board with the idea and Clay got on the phone with the nearest Chinese restaurant. They ordered all the classics; noodles, chicken, vegetables, and egg rolls. They all gathered around the kitchen table, creating some conversation while waiting for the food to arrive. When the food eventually arrived, Nick took the food with the help of Darryl and tipped the driver. The smell was amazing, Zak thankfully brought paper plates and utensils for everyone to use. Quickly, everyone began eating. Clay decided to fill in on Zak and Darryl everything he talked about to Nick, Alex and Lucas. Darryl showed much interest for the amusement park.

Time started to move slowly. After finishing up with the food, everyone made their way to the living room. Clay only mentally picked up things about everyone's daily life, video ideas, maybe something about coding or editing, he couldn't remember. His mind was at war. He wanted time to move by faster, he needed to see George. But he didn't. He didn't want time to move faster, he felt like he was going to screw everything up when he finally meets him; he'll probably say something stupid or even fall. At some point everyone went outside to the beach or the back porch. But all that Clay could do was think.

He decided to join everyone outside. The sun was setting, the smell of the beach was calming. Clay sat down near the fire pit and watched everyone play around in the water ankle deep. Nick kept trying to get everyone wet with Darryl scolding him. After awhile the sky turned dark. One by one everyone went inside into the living room. A message in the group chat popped up. 

**Simps**

**Gerogie**

My plane is landing in like half an hour, also sorry but can someone pick me up?

_What?_

Clay checked the time, it was 10:39 pm.

_Holy fuck._

"Georgette is coming!!!" Nick screamed. Darryl joined him in cheering.

"Darryl do you want to come with me to pick him up? We have to leave like right now."

"Yeah!" Both Nick and Darryl and got up from their seats and made their way to the front door.

"We'll be back soon." Clay heard the door shut, then the car engine starting. Although it was faint, he heard the wheels drag across the asphalt then slowly turning into nothing. The room became quiet. 

Everything became blurry. This can't be happening, this has to be a joke. George is really coming? Clay couldn't feel the seat his was sitting on, he forgot where he even was. It was like as if he was floating in the emptiness of space, he was falling into the dark abyss trying to look for a light. Something was mumbling. He wasn't able to make out what was making the noise.

"Clay?"

He looked up, not knowing where to look.

"Yeah? What's going on?" He asked into the room.

"Haha, everything alright there buddy?" It was Zak that was talking to him. He turned his head to face him.

"Uh yeah! Yeah." There was a couple seconds of silence, Zak continued to stare at Clay as if he was still waiting for a response.

"Huh?" Clay had a confused look on his face. Zak laughed at him.

"I asked if you're excited to finally see George." He thought about the question. He was nervous, scared. What if George doesn't like him after this trip, what if he messes everything up? What if their friendship isn't the same anymore? Clay wouldn't be able to live with himself if he fucked anything up. No amount of planning and preparation could make him feel any more confident. It was George, the man he has so much feelings for, the man that he can't stop thinking about, the man that he is in love with. Clay strove to be the one to make him laugh, smile, to enjoy life. Nothing made more him happy than seeing George's adorable grin. Sometimes he wished that he didn't have feelings towards George. Love was stupid, it was too much for him to handle. Thinking about it made him upset, like right now. Clay could feel is throat swelling up, threatening to let out a sob.

Clay cleared his throat sharply, "Oh Yeah! Haha, of course I am!" He smiled at Zak, trying to cover up his discomfort. Zak smiled back at him. Clay looked down as Zak started to create conversation with Lucas and Alex.

_I'm so stupid._

He pulled out his phone, pretending to look interested in whatever he was looking at. His heart was racing at a million miles a minute, he could throw up all over the floor. His leg started shaking, then bouncing violently. He noticed Lucas looking at him funny. The bouncing was too noticeable. He started tapping his fingers rapidly on the arm rest of the seat. His breathing became a little heavier, and his hands were shaking a little. The images on his phone became blurry due to the shaking.

Time didn't make sense. It was moving to fast when he didn't want it too, but too slow when he needed it too. He felt like he lived in a different dimension, the universe constantly poking fun at him, or a higher being laughing at him. Everyone else in the room seemed invested in their conversations, making Clay feel alone, a feeling all too familiar.

All he could hear is a muffled conversation and the clock ticking in the distance. The ticking was deafening, each passing tick seemed to be slower than the previous one. It taunted him, causing him pain. Time kept passing forever, he wanted it to be over.

Suddenly, the sound of wheels dragging across the asphalt grabbed everyone's attention.

"Oh, I think they're finally here," Zak pointed out.

Clay stared at the floor wide eyed. His chest began pumping violently, making his chest hurt. The beating of this heart pulsed throughout his entire body.

The sound of three car doors shutting traveled in his ears, then the sound of the door opening. He turned his head to face the door. His hands kept shaking.

The door opened. Nick entered first with a large bag, then Darryl with more luggage. He knew who was going to walk through the door next.

He could pass out. He looked at the door. Everything slowed down. His vision blurred, only focusing on the door.

The, he saw a figure approaching. His heart beating faster each passing moment.

George's face appeared. Clay's eyes locked with George's.

"Hey!" George's beautiful face lit up.

He couldn't believe it. It was actually him.

Clay stood up from his chair. "George!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Alex and Lucas are completely fictional, they are only related to Nick (Sapnap as close friends).


	7. Desire

Clay got up and ran towards George, pulling him in for a tight hug. George wrapped his arms around Clay surprised.

Everything felt surreal. The man that he has been over thinking about, crying over, the one he is in love with is finally in his arms. The feeling of George's chest against his, his arms wrapped around his body was electrifying. Never in his life has he ever felt so alive. This exact moment in time hasn't even set in his head yet. Every bit of nerves he felt before has melted away, Clay felt weirdly comfortable in George's arms; almost as if he belongs there. He wanted to hold George for the rest of time, this moment needed to last forever. But a couple seconds went by before George let go. Clay hesitantly let go after George did. It was painful, but necessary, he didn't want to make things weird. Especially in front of everyone.

"George! It's so nice to finally see you!" He couldn't hide the excitement in his voice. He looked into his eyes. George looked even more beautiful in person, his smile was absolutely captivating. 

"It's nice to see you too! It's been too long." George laughed. George's eyes left Clay's gaze, moving to Zak and Nick's friends. Clay watched as George walked over to greet everyone else and exchange hugs. Everything about him was perfect. Clay looked at him in awe. It all still felt surreal, this must be a dream.

_I can't believe this is happening, act cool._

He took a deep breath. He needed to relax, Clay looked down and noticed he was still jittery, his hands slightly shaking from all the excitement. He didn't know what was going to happen next. He just waited until everyone finished greeting each other.

"This place is sweet." George's voice was even cuter in person, it made his body tingle, it was music to his ears. Nick proceeded to show George all the areas to the house. Clay didn't take his eyes of George the entire time.

"Guys! Everyone gather up, let's take a pic." Nick suggested.

"I get to be in the middle!" Darryl demanded.

"Clay, let's use your phone." Clay agreed and placed his phone on the counter.

He quickly realized, "Wait uh, I need to cover my face with something."

"Ugh! Just use your hands silly boy!" Nick yelled.

"Ha, okay. Everyone get ready. There's ten seconds on the clock." Everyone got into their positions. Clay set the timer and ran besides George. He looked down and playfully covered his face with both of his hands. He heard the timer tick down, and at the last second he felt George wrap his arm around his neck and brought him closer to the side of his body.

_What?_

The clicking of the phone went off, taking a picture.

_What just happened?_

"Yay, alright guys it's really late, I'm really tired." Darryl whined.

Nick yawned, "Yeah, me too." Everyone said goodnight and headed off into their rooms. Clay and George were the last ones standing in the living room. Clay had to break the silence.

"Oh uh, George your room is upstairs, I can help you bring your stuff upstairs."

George looked back at him, "Oh yeah sure, I'm so tired." Clay walked over to the entrance to grab his bag that was left on the floor, George took the other. They made their way upstairs until Clay realized he forgot his phone on the counter, "Oh, my phone!" He ran back, grabbed it, and returned to the staircase. They made it to the doors that faced each other.

"Here, your room is on the right." He opened the door, letting George in first. They walked in and George flopped onto the bed. Clay chuckled.

"Tired much?" He poked fun at George, trying to cover up the shakiness in his voice.

"Oh my goodness, yes."

"How was your flight?" That was something Clay was genuinely wondering throughout the entire day.

"Ugh, it could've been so much better," there was a slight pause, "the plane was really bumpy the entire time so I didn't get any sleep. Oh, and there was so much turbulence." George sounded really bothered. He wanted to comfort him, but honestly, George was probably just tired.

"Dang, that sucks. Planes freak me out sometimes, that's why I try to avoid them." George let out a small laugh.

"So, do you need help with anything, or?" He tired to make an excuse just to spend more time with him.

"Uhh, no I think I'm good actually, thanks though."

"Okay then, goodnight." Clay turned around to leave the room.

"Hey Clay," he stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around, facing George.

"Yeah?" he felt his body heating up.

"I just wanna say thank you again, for helping me pay for everything, and my ticket, that was nice of you, you really didn't have to do that."

"Oh, no problem. Don't worry about it. And hey, I'm really glad you were able to make it. It makes me really happy that everyone is finally together." Clay nervously smiled.

"Yeah definitely. Like honestly, it's so strange finally seeing everyone in person, it's so much different than calling." Both of them laughed.

Clay couldn't have agreed more, "Oh my gosh! That's exactly how I feel." George smiled then yawned.

"Well I guess it's getting kinda late now, see you in the morning?" George sounded exhausted.

"Yeah of course! Well, goodnight then, sleep well."

"Goodnight."

Clay turned around to leave the room, he softly closed the door behind him. He stood in front of the door for a couple of seconds, letting out a deep sigh.

_Holy shit._

He entered his room and sat down on the bed. This couldn't be real life, this has to be some kind of dream, and he was still waiting to wake up. He took of his clothes and grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste. Walking into the bathroom, he began brushing his teeth, looking into the mirror. His head was empty, but felt heavy. He really met George. They touched, he literally just had a conversation with him. He experienced the very same thing he was absolutely terrified to deal with just a week ago. Clay didn't know whether to throw up in the sink or feel proud. After brushing for a minute, he spit into the sink and rinsed his mouth. He was too lazy to shower, he decided he'll shower in the morning.

Clay looked outside the window, it was pitch black. The only thing illuminating the water was the bright moon. The light danced on the soft waves, creating a mesmerizing visual. He shut the curtains but left a small opening to let some moonlight through. He turned off all the lights and climbed under the blankets. Nothing felt real at this point, George was only some feet away from him. It was torture, but comforting at the same time. Clay tried to deny it, but his love for George grew more and more everyday like a plant sitting under the sun. He wished he could get up, walk into George's room and pour his entire heart onto him. But, that wasn't realistic. They were just friends. Clay grabbed a pillow and brought it to his chest. He needed George by him. It's the only thing he needed in his life. There wasn't anything he could do to change that. Clay has to sit there and watch George live his life while being just, friends.

This was the sick game of life. Whenever he tried to play, he feels like he's constantly losing. His throat started swelling up. No matter how hard he would try to tell George that he loves him, it wouldn't work, nothing would work. Clay looked out the window, the moonlight light up a streak of his face. He couldn't fight it anymore. Tears silently fell down his face, onto the bed.

_Please George, I love you._


	8. Tense

The morning sun slowly woke Clay up from his sleep. The light that peeked through the curtains carefully brightened the room with each passing minute. He groaned as he got up and sat on the edge of the bed, he let a out a sigh. Nothing seemed to come across his head, well, expect of the thought of George being across the hall from him. Clay needed this day to go well, he could't afford to mess anything up. He reached over to the night stand and unplugged his phone. The screen displayed 8:24 am.

He got up from his bed, grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom. His bare feet touching the cold tiles made him shiver, now he's definitely awake. He took his shower faster than usual, he didn't want to miss out on the little things like conversations on the trip, they meant a lot to him. After finishing up, he quickly brushed his teeth and changed. Clay wondered if anyone else was even awake, maybe sending a message to the group chat wouldn't hurt.

**Clay**

Morning, anyone awake?

He waited for an answer. In the mean time, he made his bed and sat down, looking at some fan art on his phone. The amount of work and detail that goes into all the art he see's never failed to amaze him. Clay loved watching edits of George, it was his guilty pleasure. Nick's name popped up on the top of the screen. 

**Nick**

Yeah 

Weird, for some reason he thought Nick would type in all caps considering how loud he usually is. 

**Clay**

Well when everyone is done getting ready meet in the living room, let's go get breakfast  
  


One by one everyone read the message. After a couple of minutes, he heard some talking in the distance. He walked to the door, entering into the hallway, closing the door behind him softly. Making his way down the stairs he saw Nick, Lucas and Alex siting on the sofa.

"Good morning guys." Clay suddenly had a strange sense of optimism. He figured he can't spend so much time worrying about what's going to happen next, and thought focusing on the positive would be the best option for him.

"Morning, how are ya?" Nick was unsurprisingly witty.

"I'm good, is everyone else awake yet?"

"Yeah we talked to Darryl and Zak like 5 minutes ago, they'll be out soon." Lucas responded.

"Alright cool." Clay saw Nick looking at this phone, then smiling.

"Ha, George hasn't opened the message yet, go wake him up."

Silence ensued. He wasn't sure which one Nick was asking to wake up George.

"Me?" Clay hesitantly asked.

"Yeah you, go."

"Uh, okay." Clay got up and instantly became nervous. He tried to brush it off. What would he do if George was changing, or shirtless in bed? He wouldn't know how to feel. Without even knowing it he made it in-front of George's door. He placed his hand on the handle.

_Wait, maybe I should knock._

Clay knocked on the door, but not too loudly. After a couple seconds, he didn't hear anything coming from the room. He tried knocking again, but a little bit louder. He placed his ear next to the door, trying to hear anything inside. He listened closely and actually heard something; George softly snoring. Since he wasn't waking up, Clay had to go inside. He put his hand on the door handle, feeling his heart beating faster.

He slowly opened the door revealing everything inside. He almost closed the door, but leaving it ajar. The room was dark, but there was enough light to see everything clearly. Clay slowly made his way to the bed, and there he was, peacefully laying on his back snoring quietly.

He was absolute perfection, there wasn't one flaw about him. Clay's eyes moved down to his chest. He wasn't wearing a shirt, Clay's face turned red. The blankets mostly covered his legs and left his torso bare. His skin looked soft, resembling silk, he couldn't take his eyes off him. George looked dead asleep, giving him a chance to feel him. I mean, a soft touch of his skin wouldn't hurt?

His hand moved closer towards George's bare chest, his finger tips nearly making contact with skin, tension growing every inch he got closer, but at the last moment he pulled his hand away.

This was wrong, so wrong. He shouldn't be having imaginations about his best friend, he shouldn't be lusting over him, it wasn't right for him to be having such strong feelings for George. There was a zero probability that George even remotely feels any kind of way for him. Clay looked at George's peaceful face, his hair was cutely messed up, his breathing was rhythmic. Clay let out a sigh in defeat. He turned his head to the door when he heard some talking from the living room, recognizing the voices of Darryl and Zak. He looked back at George, remembering that he had to wake him up.

In a medium tone, "George, wake up." He waited to see if it worked. George didn't seem to react. in a louder voice he said,

"George," still nothing, his quiet snoring filled the silence. He didn't want to waste anymore time. He placed his hand on George's shoulder, shaking it a little.

"George, come on, wake up." George started to shuffle around in bed, he opened his eyes, looking around the room until his eyes finally made contact with Clay's.

"Oh hey." George's voice was raspy, Clay tried to hide his smile.

"Get up and get ready, we're gonna leave soon, we're gonna get some breakfast." George's eyes widened.

"Ah, okay, where is everyone?' He propped himself on the bed.

"In the living room, just meet us there when you're done." Clay tried everything to not look at George's body, he was just too cute.

"Alright sounds good." Clay smiled at George. He turned around and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He let out a sigh in what seems life relief, relieved that he got that over with. He went downstairs to join the others.

"Good morning guys!" Clay greeted Darryl and Zak.

"Hey, how are you?" Zak asked, he had a smile on his face.

"I'm good!"

"So what's the plan for today?" Darryl asked.

Everyone turned at looked at Clay, he suddenly felt pressure on him. Didn't everyone read the message he sent in the morning?

"Oh, um, we can go get breakfast at this diner not to far from here, it looks pretty cool."

"Oh yeah, sounds good to me," Nick added, "Is George awake?"

"Yeah! He'll be ready soon." Everyone waited in the living room, creating some conversation. After five minutes, Clay heard a door shut from upstairs, he saw George walking down the stairs to meet everyone else.

"Hey."

In a British accent Nick asked, "Hello Gerogie, how are you this mornin'?"

George chuckled, "I'm fine, thanks for asking. So, are we leaving now?"

Clay intervened, "Yeah! We can go now, are we gonna take our own cars?"

"Yeah, I wanna jam out to my songs." Nick said.

"Ugh, it's too early for that. Alright let's go!" Clay teased.

Everyone got up and went to their cars, "Oh George, you can come with me." George nodded and climbed in. Clay got in and turned the car on, he also put the A/C on full blast, since the car was warm. He pulled out from the drive way and started driving towards the diner, he checked the rear view mirror to see if everyone was following him.

The car was quiet, the only thing filling the silence was the A/C. Clay wanted to break the silence, but he didn't know what to do. He fiddled his thumbs on the steering wheel thinking about what to say. Should he put on some music? Maybe some small talk would be better?

"So, liking the trip so far? I mean, we haven't done much but, I hope you're liking it."

"Yeah! Yeah, everything is great, I'm excited to see more of Florida." George's tone seemed flat, he looked straight ahead at the road.

"Nice, I'm excited for you to see it too." The silence came back. It was awkward. What else could he say? He needed the silence to stop.

"Do you want to connect your phone to play some music? Or I can, It doesn't matter." Clay almost stuttered over his words.

"You can, I don't mind whatever you play." George still looked at the road ahead.

"Alright." Clay connected his phone to his car and put his playlist of shuffle. He lowered the volume on the console to be at the right loudness. The awkwardness dissipated a little, but it still lingered in the car. They left the beach scenery and slowly entered into the city, it wasn't the bustling city but an area of shops, markets and business's. After driving for some bit, taking some turns left and right, everyone arrived at the diner. Clay found a parking spot and saw Nick and Zak pull their cars into the parking lot and park next to Clay. Everyone headed inside.

The diner was cozy, it had light's strung up on the ceiling and plants scattered around the inside. The tans and browns that covered the walls and furniture made the sunlight morph into a warm tone. The diner wasn't extremely busy but here was handful of people. Clay felt a sense of comfort hold him.

They were all greeted by a woman, helping them find a place to sit. Since there was 7 of them, they had to put two tables together to fit everyone. Everyone sat down and the waitress asked what everyone wanted to drink. After asking everyone she made it to Clay, she smiled at him.

"Oh, can I have orange juice." She nodded and went on her way.

"You don't like coffee?" Nick asked.

"No not really."

"Haha, piss baby." Everyone laughed.

"Nick shut up! There's people around, didn't you ask for chocolate milk?" Alex and Lucas laughed.

"Yeah, what about it?" Nick playfully retaliated.

Clay chuckled, "You're so dumb."

Everyone flipped through their menu's deciding what to order. Clay sat in front of George. He couldn't help but look at him. He noticed how tired he appeared and how quiet he was on the drive here. It didn't seem like his usual self. Although, it was probably just jet lag. Everyone broke off into their own conversations. George looked down at the menu.

"So, what are you thinking of getting?" he didn't look up, Maybe he didn't hear him. "George?"

George looked up, "Oh you're asking me? Um, I'm not sure, what are you getting?"

"I think I'm gonna get the pancakes with some hash browns, but the waffles also sound good."

"Oh, the waffles do sound good, I think I'll get those." Clay smiled.

The waitress came back with everyone's drinks, then asked what everyone wanted. She took everyone's order one by one and took off.

Clay couldn't help but think why George seemed so sad. Was something bothering him? He wanted to hold his hand and talk to him, kiss him on the cheek and be the one to make him feel better, although they were in public, and that's not a realistic scenario. Clay almost felt guilty for George's apparent sadness, he was supposed to make him feel happy, but he wasn't. Clay sat there staring at George, wishing he could get inside his head.

The sudden smell of breakfast food brought him back to the real world.

Everyone's orders was placed in front of them, the smell was captivating. There wasn't any other choice but to dig in. Clay didn't realize how hungry he was until he started actually eating. Everyone created some fun conversations, Nick cracking some inappropriate jokes and Darryl telling him to watch his language. Half way through the meal, Clay noticed George was picking at his food, trying to eat. He wasn't sure if he didn't like the food or he wasn't hungry. Clay grew worried.

_Why isn't he eating? Should I ask? ... No I probably shouldn't right now._

As everyone almost finished their meals, Darryl asked, "Hey guys, what should we do after this?"

"Yeah what should we do?' Nick added. Clay thought what to respond with until he was interrupted mid thought.

"Ah! We should go swimming! It's really hot out, seems like the perfect weather." Zak suggested.

_Oh shit, the beach._

"Oh yeah, let's do it _."_ Everyone agreed with Zak. For some reason Clay got nervous.

"Sure, um, is everyone done eating?" There was a mixture of yes's and yeah's, but when Clay looked over at George's plate, he had only eaten about half of his food. As everyone got up and shuffled around, Clay leaned over to George and asked,

"George, do you want a box to finish that later?" George looked up at him.

"Huh, uh, no I'm good, it's fine." Clay could tell George forced a light tone in his speech.

"Oh, Okay." Both of them got up and joined the rest of the group. Everyone paid for their meals and headed back to their cars. Clay quickly turned on the A/C, especially since the car got hotter. Everyone followed Clay as he drove out of the parking lot and headed back to the beach house. George decided to play his music in the car, it was enjoyable since both of them had somewhat of a similar taste of music.

The sight of seeing George picking at his food, appearing so sad made Clay worried, he couldn't stop thinking about it. George was right there, right besides him, he could ask, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Clay wanted to protect him, it made him sick knowing something could be wrong with George while he sat there doing nothing.

He had to, there wasn't any other choice. He reached over to the console and turned down the music.

"Hey George?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are you okay?"


	9. Confusion

Tension immediately started to build up in the air.

"Huh, what do you mean?" Clay's question took him by surprise. George felt nerves building up inside him.

"Like, are you okay? You look really tried, and you didn't finish your food, I don't know, I just wanna make sure you're okay."

George couldn't tell anyone the truth. He didn't want to. The last thing he wanted was to become a burden to anyone else. He couldn't dare and look him in the eyes, he wanted to pretend like nothing was wrong. He looked straight ahead.

"Yeah! I'm fine, don't worry, the jet lagged really messed me up." George forced out a laugh.

"Oh, okay. If you ever need anything, please just ask, okay?"

Clays words were comforting. It was something he wasn't used to hearing. So much planning and difficulties went into this trip, George didn't want to be the one to ruin it for everyone, it was better if he just kept everything to himself. Although, despite all of the things going inside his head, Florida was genuinely a beautiful place. The beaches, scenery and city was so much different than back home; he took this to his advantage, needing to use it as a distraction. Without much thought, everyone had arrived back to the house. He saw everyone expect for Clay and himself run inside the house.

George didn't want to swim, especially because of what he's been reading on social media. People pointing out his flaws, making fun of his weight. But he had to swim, everything must go smoothly.

"Come on, let's go."

Clay motioned for them to get out of the car and into the house. No one was in the living room, everyone must've been changing. Both of them went upstairs and entered their rooms.

George grabbed his luggage and placed it on the bed. He searched in the bag for his swimming shorts. He eventually felt it and pulled it out. It was black with a white string to adjust the waist. George placed his hands on the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head to take it off. He unbuttoned his shorts and took them off. Before putting on his swimming shorts, he walked over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

He wish he had more muscle. He wish he was taller, better looking. He felt like if he was more confident, it could be one less thing we could worry about. Maybe the comments would stop. Never mind that, he returned to the bed and slipped on the swimming shorts. He grabbed a towel, sun screen, and made his way to the living room. He suddenly stopped half way down the stairs. He saw a man standing in the middle of the living room.

His heart fluttered. The man had smooth fair skin, his arms were swole, all complemented by tender muscles on his chest. His dirty blonde hair glowed in the bright sun. George looked down his body, his green swimming shorts showed off his muscly thighs and legs. He was confused, who was this man?

The man turned to face George, "Oh hey, uh, ready to go swimming?"

_Oh my god, it's Clay._

_What the hell, what?_

_I'm not, like that. I'm not gay._

"Uh, yeah!" George was all flustered. Nothing made sense anymore. He wasn't gay, he just wasn't. He couldn't think about it right now, Clay was waiting for him.

Clay opened the glass door and let George go outside first. The heat hit George all over, it was, nice. The sun was beaming and the ocean right in front of him looked refreshing. He saw everyone else splashing in the water. Both of them walked to the sand and set their towels on the ground. George sat down and applied sun screen all over the front of his body. He noticed Clay doing the same. George tried to apply some on his back but struggled. He kept trying until,

"Hey, uh, need some help with your back?" George knew he blushed. He was nervous.

"Sure," George tried to sound as casual as possible.

Clay reached over for George's sun screen and put some on his hand. George turned around, then he felt the sensation of Clay's soft hands touch his back. His hands moved in a circular motion from his shoulders, slowly down to his lower back. The feelings of his hands made George, tingly. It was something George was lacking in his life, a simple touch, a connection. His touch was electrifying.

"Okay, all done." Clay laughed. George turned around.

"Do you want me to do you?" Again, George forced the most innocent, casual tone he could put in his voice.

"Yeah, go ahead."

George watched as Clay turned around, showing off his toned, muscly back. His face turned red. George quickly brushed it off. He applied some sun screen on his hand, rubbed it together and placed both hands on his back. His skin was immaculate, soft to the touch. He rubbed Clay's back, covering each inch with the thick sun screen, making sure he didn't miss a spot. He savored each moment, trying to make each second lasted a bit longer than the last. But eventually he had to stop. He finished up Clay's back.

"Okay, so, do you wanna swim?" Clay asked. Surprisingly he felt comfortable with Clay, he felt like he wasn't being judged.

"Sure, let's go." They both got up and walked towards the water. The waves weren't too strong, just how George would've wanted them. George stopped where the waves reached the sand, digging his toes into the wet sand. He saw Clay enter the cold water, swimming over to Nick and the others, immediately splashing each other like little kids at a water park. Their laughs made George smile. Clay darted his head around the water as if he was searching for something, he turned around, finding what he was looking for.

"Hey! You getting in?" Clay motioned for George to join the rest of them. The water covering his feet invited him in as well.

"Okay, I'm coming!" George slowly made his way into the ocean, the cold water made him jump. The small waves caressing his body made him slightly shiver.

"Ugh, why is the water so cold, I thought it'd be warmer." George whined.

Clay laughed, "Just get in, you'll get used to it." Eventually, George's entire body was submerged underwater, and Clay was right, he got used to it pretty fast, the water also felt nice. Suddenly, water shot out of nowhere, soaking his face.

"Nick! Stop!" Both Clay and Nick laughed with George. Nick got out and connected his phone to his large bluetooth speaker, cranking the volume all the way up. This was perfect, the music, weather, water, the vibe; it was exactly how George hoped it would go. Darryl brought a colorful beach ball, which probably wasn't a good idea, Nick got busy hitting everyone in the face with it. After a while, George got tired fighting against the waves. He made his way out of the water and onto the warm sand. He sat down on his towel and watched everyone else having a fun time.

"Hey," George jumped, he looked up.

"Oh, hey. How's it going?" It was Alex, Nick's friend. They haven't exchanged much words since they met. Maybe getting to know Nick's friend wouldn't hurt.

"Good! How are you?" Alex's voice was strangely comforting. George wasn't good at making friends, he never knew how to connect with people. He assumed people thought the worst of him.

"I'm great, thank's for asking." George smiled. Alex sat down on Clay's towel, sitting right next to him.

"Liking Florida so far?" Alex asked.

"Yeah! It's so beautiful here, I like it a lot. Is Florida like Texas?" George grew curious.

"Uh, yeah in some ways, the heat is definitely the same. But I like it!" Both laughed. Alex continued to speak. "So is this your first time meeting everyone, right?"

"Yes it is! I'm so happy that I got to meet them, it's been years. Way to overdue. It's even better that we got this beach house." George chuckled.

"That's awesome. And the beach house was a great choice." They both laughed again. There was a slight pause until Alex continued to talk, "So, how's life treating you?"

What a dense, complex, but simple question.

"It's alright honestly. Couldn't ask for more." George wondered if he was even good at lying.

"Same here, so," There was a slight hesitation in Alex's words. "Are you single?"

Confusion set in. Why would he ask something like that? Wait, it's just a simple question. People ask each other this question all the time. George couldn't help but feel embarrassed, how could he be so bad at socializing?

"Uh, yeah I am."

"Really? I thought you'd be taken already," Alex giggled, "especially how popular you are on youtube." George couldn't tell if he was making fun of him, or genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, but unfortunately I am." George forced out a light tone, and a laugh.

There was a slight pause. "Well," hesitation grew in Alex's words again, "I mean, I'm not sure if you're this way, but," there was another pause, he almost stumbled over his words "I'm single too, and, well, I think you're cute and if you're ever interested I could take you out or something."

George froze. Everything turned still. His heart started to beat faster from the sudden nerves. He wasn't sure if his ears were working, there was no way. George opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.

"Uh-"

"Hey! What's up guys?" Clay suddenly interrupted the conversation, perfect timing. George noticed everyone getting out of the water and heading inside. He continued to speak, "We were thinking of checking out the amusement park, we're gonna leave soon."

"Oh, okay." George quickly stood up, grabbed his things and went inside. He ran upstairs into his room, shutting the door behind him. He couldn't wrap his head around what just happened. Did Alex really just ask him out? Why, why would he do that.

George walked over to his bed and sat down. He didn't know where his heart or head was. Everything was spinning. The tension between him and Clay, now him and Alex. George was frustrated. Nothing made sense anymore.

He could cry in anger. But, he couldn't let himself do that, especially over something so stupid. He slowly kept becoming more disconnected with his emotions. He got up and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He quickly washed his hair and body. He stepped out and changed into a new set of clothes.

George flopped onto his bed and let out a sigh. Sometimes he wish time could stop. He wanted to figure himself out, his life felt like a merry-go-round spinning uncontrollably, trying to find the button to fix it without flying off.

He pulled out his phone and opened up YouTube, clicking on a video that seemed interesting to watch in the moment. George saw a notification pop up on the top of his screen; it was a text from Clay to the group chat.

**Clay**

Everyone ready? Meet in the living room.

Soon after he heard some chatter coming from the living room. He got up and headed downstairs to join everyone.

"Okay everyone's here, let's go!" Nick chanted. As routine, everyone entered into their cars. George got into Clay's car and buckled his seatbelt, shortly after, Clay did the same. As they drove, Clay asked a question.

"You like roller coasters?" It seemed like an innocent question.

"Uhh, not really actually, I'm not the biggest fan."

"Dude, same here, they freak me out." Clay chuckled. He kept talking, "I really like riding the smaller rides and getting the food."

"Ha, I could kill for some food right about now." They both laughed and looked ahead at the road. George pulled out his phone and checked the time, 2:16 pm. George looked back at the road, listening to the music that filled the car.

Is this what it's like to connect with people? He knew Clay for so long, made countless videos with him, but until know, he finally felt like he's actually making a real connection. As simple as it may seem, it was deep. Friendship seemed liked an impossible task, especially what he had to go through when he was younger.

Clay made him happy. Maybe he should start opening up more.


	10. Comfort

Content Warning: Child Abuse, Bodily Harm 

\-------------------------------------

In the distance, George could see the amusement park with it's attractions slowly grow into his field of view. The screams and laughter grew louder in his ears. Clay found a spot to park, with everyone else parking near by. The setting was amazing.

The amusement park sat right next to the beach, giving people the opportunity to swim if they wanted to, which people did; the beach looked busy. Stores, shops and restaurants surrounded the park, resembling a downtown area. Everyone gathered up and walked towards the park. The noises and sounds of the rides grew noisier. Since the amusement park was a bit larger than most beach-parks, there was a small fee to pay, but it wasn't bad.

"You guys, we all should ride this one," Nick pointed up at the main roller coaster. It was tall, and fast, sending people hurtling through the air.

"Yeah, there's no way I'm getting on that." Clay said.

"Come on! You only live once!" Zak shouted.

"The line isn't long, and it looks like the ride is ending!" Nick encouraged for everyone to get on. Everyone else ran towards the line. George and Clay stayed behind. Clay looked at George.

"Wanna try?" Clay sounded like he wanted to try. George didn't want to cause any inconvenience, or annoy anyone. He looked at the giant roller coaster, then back at Clay.

Nervously, he said, "Sure."

Both of them walked to the line, standing behind the rest of the group. Everyone seemed super excited to ride the roaring roller coaster, but George was nervous. But standing next to Clay, he felt safe and comfortable. George looked down, Clay's hand rested next to his. It was so close, almost touching. He had an urge to hold his hand. George suddenly became flustered, he brushed it off. He looked back at the roller coaster. It's just a stupid ride, it'll only last for two minutes, he should stop making a fuss. The ride made it's way to the entrance, the people riding it got off and exited. The worker managing the ride let people in to get into the ride. They walked up the metal stairs onto the platform and climbed onto the seats. Each seat fit two people.

The seat was snug, putting Clay and George's bodies close. The fear from the ride and the sensation of Clay's arms against his confused his brain, he couldn't process what he was feeling. They sat in the middle between all the seats, with the rest of the group right in front of them. Suddenly the ride starts to move forward, climbing up the hill accompanied by it's clanking.

"Oh god," Clay muttered under his breath. They kept going higher and higher. George looked out. He could see the entire coast line and the entire amusement park, it was beautiful. He can't remember the last time he was this high up-

"Shit!" Clay yelled. The roller coaster plunged down, catching George off guard. His heart dropped to his stomach. The coaster took a sharp left and right and flew its way around the park. George closed his eyes shut and looked down. He could hear mixtures of screaming, laughter and cheering all around him. The wind hit him across the face. George needed something besides the coaster to hold onto. He grabbed Clay's arm and tightly held on. The ride kept going on forever. Every second he wished it stopped. And eventually it slowly came to an end. Once it made a full stop and the worker unlocked the seats, both Clay and George quickly got off and exited the ride.

"Holy shit I'm never doing that again." Clay sounded like he was out of breath.

"Yeah neither am I," George agreed.

"Oh my god you guys are such babies, it wasn't even bad." Nick playfully teased them. "Do you wanna go on the other rides with us?"

"Uh no, I kinda just wanna walk around." Clay responded."

"Yeah, me too." George added.

"Okay, we can meet up later. Just send us a text." George watched as the rest of the group take interest in the other rides the amusement park had to offer, but after what he just experienced, he doesn't have any interest going on anything.

"Wanna grab something to eat?" Clay looked at George. His nerves suddenly melted away, Clay's words were comforting.

"Sure!"

Both walked over to the food stands, away from the bustling action of the rides.

"Wow, there's so many options." George was genuinely surprised. Pizza, burgers, fries, Italian, seafood, tacos. His stomach was still spinning, so he settled for the pizza.

"The pizza sounds good." George pointed out.

"Yeah pizza does sound good, wanna get some?"

George agreed and they both walked to the food stand. Clay ordered a slice of pepperoni and George ordered a slice of cheese. Clay also got two Coke's. Clay without warning payed for everything. They grabbed their food and found a table near by.

"You didn't have to pay for everything, I have money."

"It's okay, don't worry about it." Clay smiled.

"Well, do you want fries or something? I can pay." George asked. He wanted him to say yes, he felt bad.

"Sure, you can get a large one, we can share."

"Okay, I'll be back." George walked over to the stand that made burgers and fries. He asked for the large fries, paid and returned to the table with the food and some ketchup. The smell of the pizza really made George hungry this time. Both munched on their food and looked at the scenery that surrounded them. George wished he could live each day like this; happy and surrounded by people that he cared about.

"Still jet lagged?" Clay joked.

George giggled, "No, I don't think so." Clay smiled at him. "I'm so glad I can finally get away like this, you're so lucky that you live here."

"Yeah I mean, it's pretty nice. I don't go out as much though."

"Why?" George was curious, Florida is such a beautiful place, it seemed like there are endless things to do.

"I don't know, I guess youtube has taken over my life right now," Clay laughed, "I still can't believe how big I'm growing but, sometimes it can be a lot on me." George resonated with him.

"Oh, me too though. Like, sometimes I still can't believe millions of people watch us, it's crazy. But you know, people can be," George paused. He felt his throat swell up, he cleared his throat.

"You okay?" Clay sounded concerned.

"What? No, I'm fine." George tried to cover up his discomfort with a light tone in his voice.

"If you need to talk about something, you can. Well maybe not here, but when we go back." Clay's voice was comforting, George could burst into tears, but he held it back.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine." There was silence between the two.

"Do you wanna walk around? We can check out the shops, they look cool."

"Yeah we can do that." George smiled through the pain.

They cleaned the table, threw their garbage in the trash and headed towards the shop. Clay took the initiative to text the group chat where they were going, everyone else was busy at the amusement park.

They slowly walked on the cobbled path, looking at all the cute shops. Some sold arts and crafts, clothing, food, anything you can imagine. The looked around for while, at one point they stopped at a shop that sold all kinds of souvenirs. George settled for a small Florida shaped key chain that Clay bought for him. When they left the store, Clay's phone ringed.

"Yeah? Oh!" There were pauses between his words, "Okay, well then we'll head back now." He hung up the call. George looked at Clay, "Everyone went to go buy marshmallows and stuff for a bonfire tonight, they're heading back to the house now."

"Oh, let's go then." George smiled.

Both made it back to the car and headed back to the house. The ride back was normal, although for some reason Alex popped back into his head. He still wondered why he asked him out - in some way it freaked him out. George was always the last choice, the one people forgot. And a boy? George couldn't be, gay? But Clay, why was he having these weird thoughts with Clay? Maybe they weren't weird, it was platonic, wasn't this how people connected with each other-

"Okay let's go." George looked up, they were at the house. When they walked inside, he noticed a bunch of plastic bags filled with groceries all over the kitchen table.

"Hey!" Darryl greeted them.

"Hey, enjoy all the rides?" George asked.

"Uh! I was scared but it was fun! You should've came with us!" George laughed with Darryl.

"There's no way I could've, I probably would've puked." They laughed again.

Zak and Lucas were organizing all of the groceries, putting them away. George heard some fussing outside. It was Nick and Alex trying to figure out how to light the fire pit. At this point in time the sky started to dim, slowly turning into warmer colors. Clay had to go outside and handle it himself, and of course he started the fire on the first try. George laughed to himself.

"Hey George, wanna help us bring this outside?" Zak asked.

"Yeah!" He walked over and grabbed the marshmallows and sticks and headed outside where everyone else was. The patio had a seating area that surround the fire pit. Zak and Darryl set up a platter with the graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate, making it easy to prepare s'mores. Everyone sat down, with Clay sitting next to George on the bench.

"Ugh. I wish we had alcohol." Nick complained. Clay laughed.

"Dude, you're obsessed. If everyone really wanted to, we can get some tomorrow. Is everyone comfortable with that?" Clay asked.

"Uhhh," Darryl murmured.

"Oh, Darryl, you don't have to drink, don't worry everyone will be responsible." Clay looked at Nick.

Nick laughed, "Why are you looking at me?!" Everyone laughed.

"Don't worry, I don't like to get drunk, if anyone acts dumb, I'll take care of them."

George loved how they bickered. Moment's like this is when he feels extremely thankful that he had friends like them. He wouldn't want anything more or less. He wished that these weird feelings he was having for Clay would just disappear. He figured it was just because he was meeting him for the first time. George couldn't bare the thought of tarnishing their friendship over something stupid. It would be better if he suppressed them.

George listened to their conversations over the night. They talked about their day, how hot Florida was, funny memories over the years and video ideas. Everyone laughed at Nick's jokes and Nick arguing with Clay debating which flavor of ice cream was the best. Time went by fast. Without even knowing, the sky had turned completely dark, with the moon and stars in full view. The air turned cool. All the snacks were eaten. The statement that says time flies when you're having fun couldn't have fit in better.

"Oh damn, it's almost two?" Nick pointed out. George checked the time on his phone. It was 1:52 a.m. It made sense, he was feeling sleepy.

"Yeah, I'm getting pretty tired," Lucas yawned. Zak put out the fire and Darryl helped him clean everything up.

Everyone eventually headed off into their rooms. George went upstairs and went inside his room, shutting the door behind him. He changed into some shorts, although it was colder than usual, so he decided to put on a t-shirt. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, turned off the lights and got into bed. For some reason he couldn't sleep, getting all wrapped up in his thoughts about Clay and Alex. He put his earbuds in and opened up Netflix on his phone, deciding to watch a movie. The movie was better than he thought, despite it's bad ratings.

Halfway in the movie, his room was suddenly filled with a bright, quick flash followed by a muffled loud noise. George's heart immediately started racing.

_No, please no._

He got up and hesitantly moved the window curtain to look outside. Dark, ominous clouds filled the sky, covering the bright moon. Rain quickly started to race down the window pane. George took a step back, his hands began shaking. Another bright flash followed by a loud boom in the distance made George yelp. He covered his mouth with his shaking hands. The raining became more intense by the second, seeming like it could burst through the glass window. The rain became louder, the thunder became more constant, morphing into what seems like explosions. All the noises were deafening, he couldn't even hear his own breathing.

George got under the blankets, shutting his eyes and covering his ears as tightly as he could. He kept trying to forget. Tears quickly welled up in his eyes, eventually streaming down his face. George tried to keep in his sobs, but he couldn't. He couldn't help but cry. He tired to breathe but his sobs kept cutting him off.

_Please stop, please._

_"Don't ever fucking talk back at me again! You piece of fucking shit." The man's stood over George with a bat in right his hand, his other hand balled into a fist. His eyes were swelling with anger._

_"D-dad, I'm s-sorry, p-please don't" The man kicked George in face. George screamed in pain. Blood dripped from his soft cheek. George laid on the floor uncontrollably sobbing in fear, holding his hand up blocking his face from the man._

_"What did I just fucking say?!" The mans screaming was petrifying. The man lifted the bat in the air._

_"D-dad!" George's eyes widened in terror. The man took a swing at George's fragile legs. Hitting him as hard as he could. He let out a scream in pain once again. His crying became hysterical, his throat could give out from the crying._

_The man grabbed George by the hair and looked him in the eyes, George could barely see through the tears,"Get the fuck outside, now." The man dragged him to the back door, throwing him down the patio stairs outside. He slammed the door shut, locking it._

_George felt like he had no tears left, he laid there in the rain, broken. He managed to build up enough strength to crawl himself under the patio._

_The thunder and rain drenched him in shame. The loud thunder and pounding rain was the only thing he could hear. Young George cried under the patio in a fetal position. He wished he could run away forever. Away from this horrible place._

_He had no one. He was left all alone with his tears running down his bloody check._

George was uncontrollably sobbing, no matter how hard he covered his ears, he could still hear the roaring thunder. The memories kept replaying in his head. He needed someone. There was only person he could think of. He quickly got up from his bed and ran to the door. He opened it and stood in front of Clay's door. He placed his hand on the handle. His hands were still shaking, tears still falling down on his face. He can't do this. He just can't. It was pointless.

A thunder strike that resembled a gunshot made him jump. He looked down and opened the door and closed it behind him. He looked at Clay who was sound asleep. He was frozen in place, breathing heavily. George built up the courage to walk up to his bed. The thunderstorm still ravaged outside. The curtain was slightly opened, inviting the flashing lights to enter the room.

"C-Clay." George could barley speak.

Nothing.

"Clay, p-please wake up." He let out a sob. Clay shuffled around in bed, slowly opening his eyes.

"Huh?" Clay whispered. He reached over to the nightstand to turn on the lamp. Clay looked into George's teary, red eyes.

Clay gasped, "George?! Are you okay? What happened?!" He got up and sat on the bed.

"Can I please, s-stay with you?" George still couldn't talk. It was the type of cry where you could barely speak a word, trying to gasp for air.

"Yes, of course." Clay lifted the blanket to let George in.

George got into the bed. Clay held him close to his body. George placed his head against Clay's bare chest. He couldn't help but sob. His crying only became worse, tears racing down his face into Clay's chest. Clay held him even tighter, placing his hand on George's head, rubbing it back and forth. Eventually the storm calmed down, and so did George's crying. He was able to finally close his eyes without those memories playing inside his head. Both of them held each other in their arms, slowly drifting into sleep.

George felt safe in his comforting, warm embrace. It was something that he was missing his entire life. He never wanted him to let go.

He wanted it to last forever.


	11. Reassurance

The sensation of something warm made Clay, relaxed. It was comforting. It wrapped around most of his entire body. The light creeping through the window slowly brought him out of his sleep.

Then realization hit. Clay opened his eyes. He realized what was making him so warm and comfortable.

He turned is head. And there he was, laying right besides him. This feeling was perfect, it was all he ever wanted. George was still in the same position that he was in from last night. He was still holding Clay tightly. He felt George's breath run down his bare chest every time he breathed. The rising and lowering of George's chest against his side was rhythmic.

Clay moved his legs slightly and instantly froze in place. Clay was laying on his back looking at the ceiling with George laying on his side, wrapping his arms around Clay. Clay moved his leg again, and stopped. His face turned red. Something hard in George's shorts was pressing against Clays bare leg.

_Holy shit._

Nothing could stop it at this point. George's ... thing was right up against him. Clay soon enough felt his own self grow harder in mere seconds. It grew so fast it peeped outside of his boxers.

_Shit._

He quickly tucked it back inside his boxers, shutting his eyes trying to distract himself. God this can't be happening. Eventually George relaxed and so did Clay.

After sometime, having George wrapped around him didn't make him feel nervous or anxious. It felt like they were meant to be together like this. Although, something didn't sit well with Clay. He couldn't get rid of the image of George's terrified, teary, scared face out of his head. That was the least of it. Holding onto George's shaking body, and listening to his crying all night almost terrified him. He never experienced something like that before, especially from his best friend. What was wrong with George?

Clay felt like a shitty person. What the hell does "perfect" mean? What was perfect about this situation? George needed him and Clay took it as a "perfect situation" because he got some attention that he's been wanting from George. Clay grew angry at himself. Whatever he needed to do for George, he'd do it; no matter the cost.

Clay couldn't tell what time it was, he didn't want to reach over to get his phone and wake George up. He could see some of the sky peeking through the window. The sun barely made its way past the horizon, giving the sky a dim array of dark blues and pinks. He figured it was the best if he went back to sleep. He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep for another couple of hours.

Soon enough, the bright sunlight lit up the room, waking him up. George was still in the same position. Clay yawned and looked outside the window. He felt George shuffle around in bed, then hearing him yawn. George quickly propped himself on the bed, catching Clay off guard.

"Hey, good morning." Clay almost whispered.

"Uh, hey." George sat on the edge of the bed, looking towards the door, away from Clay.

Clay looked at the back of George's head. "So, are you feeling better?"

"Yeah." George's tone was flat, something Clay wasn't used to hearing. Something was bothering him. Clay just didn't know what words to say.

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No." George's tone turned stern. Again, catching Clay off guard. There was a short moment of deafening silence. Clay noticed George griping onto the bed sheets. He became nervous, he needed to be careful with his words. He felt like he was walking on thin ice.

"George, you don't have to feel embarrassed about last night, I'm here if you want to talk about anything. I just want to make sure you're-"

"I don't wanna talk about it." George cut him off. Clay didn't know what to do at this point. Nothing seemed real.

George turned around to look at Clay, "Can we please, just forget about this? Like as if it never happened?"

_What?_ Sadness consumed Clay.

"But-" He tried to plead with George.

"Please?" Clay looked into his beading eyes. It looked like he was about to cry, he could see him fighting the tears.

He hesitated, "Okay." Clay sighed and broke eye contact, defeated.

George turned around, got up from the bed and left the room. He heard George sniffle on the way out. He heard his door, then George's door shut.

Clay stared at the ceiling. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. What is he supposed to do know? Everything up until this morning felt like a fever dream.

He heard his phone ding. He reached over and grabbed his phone.

**Nick**

what's the move boys?

He checked the time, it was 9:51 A.M.

Clay didn't feel like doing anything anymore. He was bummed out. He couldn't stop thinking about George. He typed out a message.

**Clay**

I kinda feel like staying in lol

Clay got up and sat on the bed, burying his face into his hands.

"What the fuck," he muttered. He debated wether he should go into George's room and talk to him. Clay quickly changed into some clothes and walked outside to George's door. Clay stood there not knowing if he should go through with this. George didn't want to talk; but he couldn't just let his friend be upset. It didn't feel right.

He placed his ear on the door, trying to hear something. His heart dropped. He heard George whimpering inside of the room. He let out a sigh. Clay quietly knocked on the door.

Quickly, the door opened, revealing George.

"Clay, I don't wanna talk, please." George tried to close the door, but Clay stopped the door with his arm.

"George, can we though? You're not okay. I know you're not. I can tell. Please." He pleaded with him. After a couple of seconds, George let go of the door, letting Clay inside. He shut the door behind him. They both walked to the bed and sat down. Tension filled the room, accompanied by some awkwardness. George looked down at the floor, refusing to look at Clay.

"George," He looked at the side of George's face, "You can talk to me," He put on a warm tone in his voice, "I know you feel embarrassed. But I'm not judging you, I promise." There was a slight pause. "I've never seen you like that before, and I'm worried about you, that's all." He waited for George to respond. Nothing. He looked at his face and noticed a tear drop slowly traveling down his cheek.

Clay did the unthinkable. He cupped his hand on the side of George's face and turned his head to face him. With his other hand he wiped his tear with his thumb.

"Please don't be upset. You're so much bigger and stronger than what you're going through right now, okay?" He held onto his face, looking into his watery eyes. George's beautiful eyes quickly filled up with tears and once again, he broke down crying. Clay wrapped his arms around him and brought him close to his chest. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand.

"Everything's gonna be okay." Clay reassured him.

Listening to his cries made him want to cry; but he didn't. He had to be strong. They embraced each other for a while, just enough for George to calm down. Clay's phone going off got their attention.

**Darryl**

Ooo yeah, we should cook!!

Clay looked back at George, "Well, I think we should get ready for the day. I'm gonna go downstairs. And remember," He paused, "If you need anything, please ask, okay?" He smiled at George.

George in a raspy voice, "Okay."

Clay hugged him again, feeling George wrap his arms around him. When they let go, they looked at each other. It took everything in his power not to pull George in for a kiss. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him; but he couldn't. He got up and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

...

_Holy shit, there's no way that just fucking happened._

Clay suddenly felt nauseous. He could throw up. His brain had finally processed everything that happened. He looked down at his hands; they were shaking. This couldn't be real. How can it even be real? He let out a sigh and slowly walked downstairs. He saw Darryl and Nick talking.

"Good morning," He greeted them.

Nick yawned, "Mornin.'"

"Sleep good?" Darryl asked in his happy tone.

"Yeah! You?"

"I slept fine, thanks!" Darryl's lively demeanor is what Clay needed. His heart felt so heavy after dealing with everything last night and this morning.

"Did you guys wanna make breakfast for everyone? I can help." Clay asked.

Both Nick and Darryl happily agreed. Everyone took out the ingredients for some eggs and pancakes. Darryl texted the group chat to have everyone else come to the kitchen. Eventually, everyone made their way to the kitchen.

Clay took the duty of making the pancakes. He took out a large bowl and added the flour, sugar, salt, eggs, and all the necessary ingredients and mixed everything together. He turned on the stove top and placed the pan on the open flame. The butter when placed on the hot pan created an alluring sizzling. Clay smiled when he heard Darryl and Nick bickering whether to make omelettes or scrambled eggs.

Clay finished the first batch and handed them to Zak, Alex and Lucas. Nick convinced Darryl to make scrambled eggs and plated everyone some. Clay made another batch of pancakes. He went around the table and realized something. George wasn't there.

"Nick watch the pancakes, I'll be right back."

"Okay, they might be burnt." Clay laughed and went upstairs. He wondered why George hadn't come down for breakfast. He wished he could fix him; but he didn't know how. He knocked on the door and opened it. He saw George laying on his bed looking at his phone.

"George?"

George turned his head to look at him, "Oh, hey."

"Are you gonna come down to eat some breakfast?" He smiled, trying to comfort him.

"Uhh, sure. I'm not really hungry though."

Clay grew frustrated, but not in an angry way. He walked further into the room.

"Can you please eat? I mean, you didn't eat much yesterday. Can you please try to eat? For me?" He smiled again.

George chuckled, "Okay." He smiled. Clay motioned for him to get up. George got up from the bed and walked downstairs where everyone else was.

"Good morning Georgie!!!" Nick yelled.

George jumped, "Jeez, it's too early for this." Everyone laughed. Clay resumed his job of making pancakes and fixed George a plate of food. He made sure to give George an extra pancake and some more scrambled eggs. He knew he might not eat all of it, but he wanted George to eat. Clay remembers his mom saying that food can make anyone feel better; it's a medicine, it's a way to bring people together.

He almost didn't want to know what was bothering George. What if it was too much for Clay to fix? What if he fails George? He put aside this thought and handed him the plate full of food.

Clay sat next to George and everyone chowed down. He noticed George actually eating his food. He felt relieved.

"So, what should we do today?" Zak asked.

He thought about what to say. He didn't want to put George through too much today, he wanted him to relax.

"Clay, didn't you say you wanted to stay in?" Lucas said.

"Oh, I mean yeah. We should all hang out! Isn't that why we're here?"

"Not a bad idea man." Nick pointed out.

"I brought board games!" Darryl cheered.

"Alright! Everyone help clean up." Clay playfully demanded.

Everyone cleaned and washed up the kitchen. The day became long. It was filled with arguments over monopoly, debating which version of Minecraft is better and who simps the hardest. Conversation soon became rich, something Clay held very valuable to his heart. He loved getting know everyone on a personal level, rather than through a microphone.

Around lunch time Nick and Lucas made everyone some killer hamburgers. Everyone sat down outside, drinking ice cold refreshments enjoying the sun. Clay was happy to see George become more lively today. He engaged in the conversations and laughed at every joke Nick cracked. Seeing George happy made Clay happy.

The sun eventually made its way down closer to the horizon, turning the sky darker with warm colors. Nick had the idea to have another bonfire. Clay once again had to help light it. Everyone sat around the fire, breaking out in conversation until Nick had something to say.

"Oh! You guys ..." Nick smiled.

"What?" Darryl asked.

"So, since the night is young. And, you know, we're all just chilling. We should have some fun." He grinned.

_Huh?_ Clay was confused.

_Oh. Alcohol._ To be honest, some drinks did sound good to him. He confronted him.

"Sure, as long as you pay." Clay replied.

"What?! I have to pay for all of it?" Nick shouted.

Clay laughed, "I'm kidding! I can give you some money."

"Uhh, what are you guys talking about?" Darryl asked.

"Drinks babyyy," They way Nick said that made everyone laugh.

"Alex, you said you could get it right?" Nick asked. Everyone turned to look at Alex.

"Oh, yeah! I can do that. Uh, can someone come with me though?" Alex asked.

"Hmm, George you go, since you're old." Nick looked at George.

"Huh? What? Hey! I'm not old." Clay laughed. George was way too cute.

"You're older, it'd be easier." Nick said.

"Um, fine, I'll go." Clay noticed how reluctant George suddenly became. He became reserved. This put Clay off, he knew something might be wrong. Once everyone started talking about what they wanted to drink, Clay brought his lips to George's ear and whispered,

"George, if you don't want to go, I can." George turned to look at him.

"What? No, it's fine, I'll go." George smiled at him, but Clay could still sense how uneasy he was. He didn't want to upset him anymore so he let it go for now.

"Okay, we're gonna go now." Alex got up, and so did George. Clay also noticed how red Alex's face was. Was he nervous? What was going on? Clay watched as they left and walked out the main door to the car. He heard the car start and pull out of the driveway.

_What the hell?_

Clay was left confused. Why was George nervous? He hoped he didn't make a mistake leaving George alone, maybe he should've went with Alex instead. Maybe he was overthinking again, yeah that's probably it.

_Stop being dumb, George is okay._


	12. Guilt

Content Warning: Mature sexual content, Rape/Non-consensual 

\----------------------------------------

Of course. Nothing could go his way, something _had_ to inconvenience him. The universe had it all planned out from the beginning; trying to make every instance uncomfortable, turning every nuance into something unbearable. He knew that this would be awkward. But again, he had to please everyone. Being an annoyance isn't on his to-do list.

George got into the passenger seat, letting the door slam behind him. He buckled his seatbelt in and waited for Alex to start driving. For some strange reason he became nervous, his heartbeats became deep; almost painful. He fumbled with his fingers and with the hem of his shirt. George looked away from Alex as he pulled out of the driveway and into the street. He can't stop replaying the moment when he asked him out; the embarrassment was too much. He wondered if Alex could feel the tension filling the air. He looked out the window trying to look distracted - this stupid trip had to end.

"So, are you a big fan of drinking?" Alex broke the piercing silence that consumed the car. It was so thick, his words were like a hot knife cutting through butter. George took a second trying to put together some words.

"Uhh, I don't mind drinking, it's okay." God, he realized how stupid he sounded. He waited for Alex to respond. He felt like he was bracing for impact.

"Nice! Me too. I really like going hard sometimes, but maybe not this time." He laughed. George painfully forced out a laugh along with him.

"Have you had American drinks before? Or liquor?" At least he was avoiding the topic George didn't want to face.

"No, I don't drink that often." George looked out the window.

"Alright cool."

Silence ensued. The silence seemed better than the a actual conversation at hand. He just wanted Alex to drive.

"So, um ..."

_Please, just drive to the fucking store._

George had a sick feeling of what was about to happen. He squeezed his hand. His knuckles turned white.

"About the other day ..."

_Please no._

"Are you still up for it?"

_What the hell._

George wanted to scream. What was he supposed to say? He internally groaned. Maybe acting dumb would help; prolong the inevitable.

"Up for what?" George responded. He put on a convincing confused tone.

"You know, me taking you out? Clay kinda interrupted us," He chuckled, "I mean, I think you're really cute, if you're interested we could try something out?" Alex became shy.

George genuinely didn't know what to say. He clenched his fists, his palms were sweaty. He tried to think of what to say but every word became scrambled. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"You don't have to if you don't too, it's fine." Alex's tone become more stern. He sounded disappointed. "I just wanted to let you know I guess."

"I, I don't know, I'm not interested, sorry." He looked out the window. The air became tense, almost hard to breathe in. The rest of the ride to the store was silent. After some time, they finally arrived. Alex found a parking spot near the entrance. They both exited the car and walked through the automatic doors. The fluorescent lights almost blinded George. Alex led the way with a shopping cart.

"I think it's over here."

George walked behind Alex. He noticed how toned he was, especially his legs and arms. His t-shirt was form fitting, revealing his toned muscles. Looking down, his shorts were revealing, showing off his thighs. Alex had a nice golden tan; although his inner thighs were pale. George found that ... attractive.

George stopped mid-thought. That felt wrong, so impure. Somewhere inside his head, something was telling him that it was just, wrong. George felt his face heat up. He brushed off this thought, flustered. Without realizing, they made it to the section with Alcohol.

There was a huge variety. George couldn't remember the last time he saw this much alcohol.

"Alright ..." George watched as Alex grabbed packages of beer, something with colorful packaging, and some other stuff. He couldn't take his eyes off Alex's muscles as they flexed when he lifted the heavy packages.

"Okay I think that's enough, now we need to get some liquor."

George followed him throughout the store. He looked down Alex's body, then at his butt. George blushed. Suddenly, wine and big bottles of alcohol surrounded both of them.

"Should we get some Vodka? Or something like Malibu?" He turned and looked at him. George had a surprised look on his face.

"Oh! Uh, I'm not sure honestly." George laughed, Alex laughed with him.

"Hmm, maybe some vodka wouldn't hurt." He grabbed a large glass bottle full of the substance and put it in the cart.

"I think that's everything, let's go."

They made their way to the checkout. A nice lady helped them bag everything. After Alex payed, they went outside to the car. At this point, it's gotten pretty dark out and the breeze became cool. George helped put the things in the back.

The car ride back was silent. George rejecting Alex made things awkward. George just looked out the window and admired the moon. Looking at the moon was something he loved doing as a kid, he always wanted to go there.

After some time, they arrived back at the house. Alex parked and turned the car off. As George placed his hand on the handle let himself out, Alex interrupted him.

"Hey George?" He stopped dead in his tracks. He sat back in his chair. Again, he became nervous. 

"Yeah?"

Alex let out a sigh, "I just hate how awkward everything is now. I'm sorry."

"What? No, it's okay. Don't apologize." This conversation became strangely relieving; like a breath of fresh air.

"I think you're really nice. I hope you would reconsider."

_He's asking me again?_

"Um, I don't know, I'm not sure." George stumbled over his words. He looked down at his lap.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

Before George could react, he felt Alex reach over, grabbed his face and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

_What?_

George became wide-eyed. A shock wave pulsed throughout his entire body. His heart started pumping profusely. He closed his eyes and let Alex take control. After a couple of seconds, Alex pulled back.

They looked each other in the eyes.

"W-what? Why did you do that?" George felt nothing but shock. His face was red as a cherry.

Alex smiled then laughed, "Um, just cause, come on, everyone is waiting for us."

"Uh, okay."

The butterflies in his stomach could make him throw up.

_Did that really just happen?_

Without any thought, George helped Alex bring in the stuff inside. They made their way outside to the bonfire. Georgie was greeted by Nick cheering in joy.

"Hell yeah! Pass em' over!" Nick yelled.

George watched as everyone rip open the packages. He walked over and sat down next to Clay; a face he missed seeing even after a trip to the grocery store.

"How was it?" Clay's voice comforted him.

"It's was good!" George had nothing to hide, he was happy to see Clay. He didn't want to even think about Alex; it was too much to handle.

Quickly, everyone got to business. Drinks started going around. Clay handed George a fruity drink, something easy to start off with. Everything was going fine, although George noticed Alex glancing at him throughout the night. He ignored it. Nick grabbed the Vodka bottle and started handing everyone shots. A shot soon came to George. He became nervous.

"Hey, you don't have to do it if you don't want to." Clay reassured him. George found comfort in his words.

George smiled, "I'll do it."

Nick counted down form three. Everyone lifted their heads to drink the strong liquid. George felt the substance travel down his throat. It burned, and tasted vile. He coughed.

"Haha! Pussy!" Nick poked fun at George. Everyone laughed.

"Shut up! It went down the wrong tube." He became embarrassed.

Clay throughout the night kept making sure if George was okay. He was like his guardian angel or something. As the night grew longer, the more drinks went around. George soon felt the affects kick in. He felt warm and cozy, but his head started spinning in circles. He couldn't make out what anyone was saying; but he didn't mind. The sensation was great, it was ecstasy, he felt intensely happy. He leaned his head against Clay's shoulder, closing his eyes and giggling every so often.

After a while, the empty bottles started piling up. George noticed everyone getting up. He tried to stand up but stumbled. He felt Clay's warm hands hold him by the waist.

George laughed, "Thanks buddy."

Clay laughed with him, "No problem, do you want me to take you to your room?"

"Yes! Carry me!" George jumped into Clay's arms.

"Oh!" Clay struggled to hold him but eventually got it. Clay carried him up the stairs and into his room. He placed him on his bed.

"Okay it's really late, so you should sleep. Here's a water bottle, please drink it. If you need anything remember, I'm right across the hall."

Most of his words warped together. He couldn't make out anything.

"Oh, okay, goodnight Dream."

Clay laughed, "Goodnight Georgie."

George felt Clay's hand on his head, rubbing it. He saw Clay turn off the lights and shut the door. He closed his eyes, but for some reason he couldn't sleep; his brain wouldn't allow it.

Alex. That stupid boy. That, cute, stupid boy.

He closed his eyes and managed to doze of for a while. But his phone going off woke him up. He opened his eyes, and checked his phone. It was a text. He squinted to see who it was.

**Alex**

Georgeeee

Come to my room

Please? :)

My door is open 

He looked at the message.

_Why does he want me to go to his room? Maybe he wants to talk. Yeah, that's it?_

Without much thought, George got up and headed towards his door, he almost tripped. Everything was spinning. He struggled opening the door but managed to open it. He accidentally slammed the door shut behind him.

"Shit," George whispered.

He slowly walked down the stairs, holding on tightly onto the railing. All the lights were shut off, which made it harder to navigate. The only thing illuminating the room was the moon. Once he made it downstairs, he looked for the open door. He followed a light and saw an open door. George let himself inside. He saw Alex in his tight underwear in bed. George felt his warm face get even warmer.

"Uh, hey." George even stumbled over two words.

"Hey! Come in, close the door?"

George walked inside and closed the door.

"So, what's up?" George grew curious.

"Nothing really, just lonely I guess," He paused, "Come here!" He motioned for George to join him in the bed. He walked over and sat down. George tried so hard not to look at his tan, toned body.

"How'd you like the drinks?" Alex asked.

"Uhh, it was good! I really liked it actually." George slurred his words, all accompanied by a cheesy grin.

"That's good! I'm glad you did," Alex moved closer to George. Alex placed his hand on George's upper bare thigh, rubbing it back and forth.

"So, did you reconsider it yet?"

George's whole body started heating up. His touch was electrifying. His heart started beating faster.

"R-Reconsider what?" Alex's touch made him tingle.

"You know, going out on a date?" Alex's hand moved farther up his shorts, feeling inside. George gasped.

"Or do you need me to prove myself worthy? I mean, you already seem pretty excited." Alex looked down at George's crotch. George was fully hard. Alex's hand was all over it.

George looked at Alex. With his eyes he gave him permission.

Alex pulled George onto the bed and climbed on top of him, pulling his clothes off. Alex striped his underwear off, then George's, revealing their hard-on's. George felt Alex press his bare body against his and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. This was pure ecstasy. His deep kisses is what he wanted. George felt Alex's warm body, feeling him up and down his soft skin. He held onto his tender muscles as he wrapped his legs around Alex's body. George quietly moaned as Alex kissed his neck and traveled down his body.

He wanted this to last forever. 

_POV Change_

Clay quietly shut the door behind him. He couldn't get over how cute George was when he's drunk. His giggles and demeanor was captivating, he wanted to hug him and give him kisses all over his beautiful face.

He let out a sigh, took off his clothes and climbed into bed. He took out his phone and checked the time, 2:56 am. Clay strangely didn't feel too tired so as usual, he scrolled through his socials to see what his fans were up to. The fanart never failed to amaze him, especially the one's of George. He constantly found himself doing this; falling into a rabbit hole of George. He wished it wasn't so painful to look at.

After a while, a door slamming shut made Clay jump.

_The fuck was that?_

He looked at the door, waiting for something. He heard, something. He quickly got up at placed his ear on the door. It sounded like as if someone was walking down or up the stairs - but he wasn't sure.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just imagining things.

_Yeah that's probably it._

He returned to his bed, trying to fall asleep. But he couldn't. It was really late, no one should be walking around like that? What if it was George?

_Fuck, what if it's George? Does he need something?_

He contemplated what to do.

Maybe he should stop overthinking. It wasn't helping. Clay laid back down in his bed, trying to fall asleep for a couple of minutes; but he couldn't. 

_Fuck it._

Clay got up and decided to check on George. He quietly opened George's door. He looked inside but it was pitch black.

"George?" He whispered. Nothing.

He turned on the light, and to his surprise, George wasn't in bed. He checked the bathroom, he wasn't in there either. Clay quickly became worried.

He left the room and shut the door. He made his way downstairs. He checked the living room and kitchen, no George.

_What the hell? Where is he?_

He became even more concerned. Clay looked around until he saw some light coming from the distance. He followed the light and realized it was coming from where all the other rooms were. He wondered who'd be awake so late, especially drunk.

He slowly walked towards the source of the light and walked towards the door. He wondered if this where George was, should he -

Clay stopped.

His heart started racing.

He moved closer to the door and listened.

_What the fuck?_

He moved even closer, placing his ear on the door.

"W-What?" Clay shakily whispered to himself.

He heard, moaning.

_No, it can't be. This can't be, Alex's room? No._

He listened even more.

"N-no." Clay whispered. He recognized the sound. It was George's voice.

He heard another moan coming from the room.

Clay took a step back.

_No, no no no no. This can't be. No It can't. Please._

He felt his eyes tearing up.

"No," Clay took a deep breath.

He couldn't hear one more second of this. He quickly ran upstairs and went into his room. He jumped into his bed and with no other choice, he broke down sobbing.

"G-George, why." He cried into his pillow.

_Why George, why. I fucking love you_

This can't be real. It just can't. The man he loves is making love with someone else. Someone who's not even worth half of Clay.

Clay sobbed even harder into his pillow.

"George, w-why."  
  


_POV Change_

Alex made his way down to George's dick. Lathering it all over the inside of his wet mouth.

"You like that?" Alex was breathless.

"Y-Yeah." George closed his eyes, solely focusing on the sensation.

Alex finished up and lifted George's legs in the air. He placed his waist on George's bare ass.

"Ready?" Alex asked.

George looked at Alex, he might as well.

"Yes."

Alex slowly entered inside George, putting the whole thing in.

"Oh f-fuck." George moaned. The feeling was amazing. It has huge.

"Holy shit, you're so tight." Alex started moving faster inside George. He moved his hips back and forth, savoring each moment. George moaned with every hip movement. Clay felt so amazing inside George-

_Clay?_

George opened his eyes.

_What the? Just forget about it._

He tried to focus on the task at hand. He closed his eyes again, trying to focus on the sex he was literally having. Clay's face kept popping up. No matter how many times he tried to get him out of his head; it didn't work.

He felt Alex go a littler faster; and strangely enough, it didn't feel any better.

The realization hit; this was wrong. This was so wrong. So fucking wrong. He can't do this anymore. He was driven by lust, not love.

"A-Alex, stop."

Alex kept going.

"Alex!"

He looked at George, "H-huh?"

"Stop."

Alex ignored him, he was too busy. George lifted himself up, stopping everything.

"Dude, what the hell?" Alex quickly became upset.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this." George got up and got his clothes, putting them on.

"George? Did I do something wrong? What did I do?" He became concerned.

"I'm sorry, I just can't." George quickly left and shut the door.

He quietly ran upstairs and went inside his room, and as quietly as he could, shutting the door behind him. He sat down on his bed and buried his face in his hands.

_What the fuck, why did I do that?_

A great sense of shame engulfed him. He couldn't even have sex with another man without thinking about, Clay. He felt like a cheater, so disgusting and vile. George grew angry. So angry he could just, cry. And he did. He felt teardrops falling down his face.

_Why am I like this?_

George laid down on his bed, ashamed. How was he supposed to go on like this? How could he look into Clay's eyes knowing what he did. How could he be so selfish.

George broke down crying, wishing he could feel the embrace of Clay besides him.

But the only thing he could feel was regret.


	13. Resentment

Clay did the math. 39 minutes.

39 minutes of sleep.

He laid in his bed. His face was dried up from the tears. His eyes stinging red from the constant rubbing from his fingers. His heavy breathing filled the room, bouncing off the walls. It was warm out, hotter than usual; but he still felt cold. He felt betrayed, but by what means?

How could he have developed such a strong one-sided relationship with someone he knows who isn't going to feel the same way back? It's like sending a letter to the middle of nowhere, hoping for someone to respond or even acknowledge it's existence, but to no avail - nothing happens.

Every time he'd close his eyes, the noises kept blasting inside his head, taunting him. It was torture. Clay can't come to terms about what happened last night. He couldn't, he refused. George, with Alex-

_No._

What was so great about Alex? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. George is Clay's. He shut his eyes.

_George is mine._

_George is mine._

_George is mine._

_George is mine ..._

_George isn't mine ..._

There was something in Alex that George saw in him. But, what could it be? They've been best friends for years on end and _this_ is how George acts? How could he, how could he take this vacation and turn it into something so - vile. This was meant for everyone to finally connect more, not some, sex-fest.

_Fucking asshole._

He grew angry. His thoughts became full of venom.

Clay wanted to shake George and ask him what he needs to do to love him back. What was he missing? What was inside Clay that George didn't find attractive? Clay's breathing became even deeper.

The thought of having to look in Alex's eyes, knowing he had what Clay needed. Even worse, he had to look into his eyes and know for a fact that he wasn't even worth half of Clay, and yet he still drew George in.

_Why don't you fucking love me._

Clay took a deep breath in, trying to relax, but he let out a sob.

He quickly covered his mouth, trying to hold everything in. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. He shot up and stared at the door.

"Clay?"

He couldn't make out who it was, it was muffled.

He got up, slipped on a pair of shorts and headed to the door. He placed his hand on the handle.

_Please, don't let it be ..._

He opened the door. His heart dropped.

He looked at George's beautiful face. That precious face. He could burst into tears. He continued to look at the face that doesn't love him back.

"Hey, uh, everything okay?" Clay asked. He remembered that everyone drank the night before. No matter how angry he felt at George; he couldn't be mad at him, he cared about him too much.

"Um, I don't know. I just threw up and I feel sick, like I feel really nauseous." His voice was even cuter in the morning, his raspy voice was intoxicating. Clay wanted to hug him, tell him that everything is going to be okay. He wanted to give him kisses on his sweet, red cheeks. But looking at his face gave him pain. His brain kept playing the noises last night, those stupid noises.

_George ... how could you?_

It was agony. It felt as if George took the sharpest knife he could find and plunged it inside his heart, twisting it and stabbing it over and over again until he felt nothing.

"Yeah, I expected that," Clay tried to smile, trying to be witty, "You drank a lot, you're just hungover silly. Let's go downstairs, you have to eat."

Clay led the way. At the top of the stairs, Clay looked back at George.

"Need help?" Clay asked.

"Yeah," George nodded.

George grabbed onto Clay's bare arm, holding it tight. George's touch didn't feel the same as it did on the first day they met in person. It just wasn't the same. They slowly made their way down each step, George was a little wobbly, but eventually they made it to the kitchen. Both of them sat down. 

No one else was awake, Clay swears he was the only sober one last night. 

"What do you want? I can make it." Clay looked into his drowsy eyes. George looked worn out. How good could it have even been? Clay waited for an answer.

_"What? Did Alex fuck you so hard that you forgot how to fucking speak?"_

"Some toast is fine," He looked at Clay.

"You're going to have to eat more than that, I'm just gonna make you some eggs with that." Clay forced a smile, but he suddenly felt remorseful. Maybe he shouldn't think like that.

Clay turned on the stove top and placed the pan on the stove, he just couldn't stop thinking. He's not used to feeling upset with George in any kind of way. But, Clay felt wrong about feeling upset with George, his mind was at war. George wasn't his, and he'll never be.

Clay gripped onto the pan handle tighter.

George has his own life, and he can't control it, nor does he want too. Maybe he should just feel happy for George ... but, as much as he wanted too, his mind won't let him. He can't.

_Alex, you piece of shit._

He felt his throat swelling up. He shut his eyes, trying to hold it in. Popping from the pan made him jolt.

_Shit, the eggs._

He scrambled the eggs, flipping and turning them. He opened the cabinets looking for the salt and pepper, he found everything plus the bread. He inserted the bread in the toaster and pulled down the lever.

_Why am I like this?_

He doesn't have to do this. None of this was necessary. There was nothing he could do to change George's mind, but, he still cared for him. Once everything was ready, Clay plated the food. He made enough for the two of them. He turned around and saw George head down on the table, quietly snoring. Clay smiled. He placed the food in front of him. He poked him.

"George, wake up."

George instantly shot up breathless, "Huh? What's going on?" Clay laughed. George looked down at the freshly made food. Clay then placed a glass of water in front of him.

"Drink the water, you'll feel better."

Both of them began eating. They both sat in silence, the only noise filling the space was their chewing. When they were about done eating, Clay broke the silence.

"Did you have fun last night?" George looked up.

"Oh yeah! It was fun. The drinks really got to me though." He smiled. Clay felt himself blushing.

"Yeah it was really fun. I don't think I ever laughed so hard in my life." They both broke out into laughter.

Clay thought for a second. Should he bring it up?

"Did you hear something last night? Like it was pretty late, after everyone went to bed." He noticed George tense up.

_Shit, does he know that I know?_

"Uh, no I don't think so." His response was quick.

"I don't know. I sounded like someone was walking around downstairs last night. Like I heard doors shutting. I kinda sounded like it was outside my room." He left George with no other options. He noticed George's face get red.

_What the hell am I even doing?_

"Uh, um. Oh! Yeah, I just needed to use the bathroom." His voice became shaky.

"Don't you have a bathroom in your room?" He caught him in a lie. Why was George lying right in front of his face?

_Just tell me the truth. Please._

George's face became flushed. "Ah, I-I, sorry, I needed to get more water, I was really thirsty. The water bottle you gave me wasn't enough I guess. Sorry I can't think straight." He nervously laughed. Clay became sad, but more so disappointed.

_Why can't you be honest with me?_

"Oh, okay." Clay forced a smile. Both of them jumped when they heard a door slam open.

"Good morning people!" Nick's voiced echoed throughout out the entire house.

"Ugh, Nick it's too early for this!" George complained.

"It's never too early to have fun!" Nick roared.

"Where's everyone else?" Clay asked.

"Sleeping." Nick yawned.

"Well be quiet, don't wake them up, you guys were so wasted last night." Clay scolded Nick. Silence filled the room. Maybe Clay sounded too harsh.

"Does anyone know what time it is?" George asked.

_God why am I so stupid?_

Clay reached in his pocket, realizing he left his phone upstairs in his room.

"Ugh I left my phone upstairs, be right back."

Clay got up and walked upstairs. He looked through his door frame, saw his phone and snatched it off the night stand. As Clay walked towards the top of the stair case,

_"Ah, I-I, sorry, I needed to get more water, I was really thirsty. The water bottle you gave me wasn't enough I guess. Sorry I can't think straight."_

Clay slowly walked back and hesitantly opened George's door. He looked at his night stand, he walked over and grabbed the bottle. It was full. Not even opened.

_You fucking liar ... You liar. A water bottle. You lied about a fucking water bottle. To my face? Do you think I'm fucking stupid?_

Clay's grip became tighter. Water droplets escaped the sealed cap, running down the sides. He suddenly released the tight grip and placed the bottle back to it's original spot. He stared at. He looked away in disgust. Clay felt something wet on his face.

_What?_

He wiped his face and looked at his finger tips wet by his tears. More tears kept silently falling down his cheeks. His hands started trembling.

"W-what the hell?" he shakily whispered.

He ran to his room and shut the door and sat on his bed. He felt like he had no control over his body. He placed his face in his shaking hands and quietly sobbed, trying to gasp for air.

He couldn't figure out why he feels so attached. So attached to something impossible. He was floating in space, trying to look for the universe he wanted. The one outcome that completed his fairytale. Stupidity topped it all off. The poisonous cherry on top of the sundae. He knew how ridiculous it was to be upset over something like this. Crying over a boy he'll never love, making things so dramatic. He knew this reality, but something inside him just can't let him accept it. He couldn't accept his fate. He just-

"Clay?"

Clay looked up. George was standing right in front of him. That beautiful, deceiving face.

"Clay, what's wrong?" George sounded confused.

He could feel tears still falling down his face.

"Clay? Please. Talk to me."

Clay looked away. He cleared his throat, trying to mask the obvious. "Nothing's wrong."

George moved closer. Clay wanted him to move away.

"Please, I know something's wrong. Just-"

"Nothings wrong, can you please leave?"

He heard him quietly gasp. "Clay, I just want to help-"

Clay looked up, "I said nothing is wrong." His tone became more intense. George pleaded one more time,

"I just wanna make-"

He couldn't take it anymore, "Just leave me the fuck alone!"

Silence consumed the room. Tension was the only sensation he could feel.

He saw George's eyes become teary. Before he knew it, he was gone.

Clay got under the sheets. Feelings the endless stream of tears covering his face.

_Why am I so stupid?_

He needed to escape. He had to get out of here. Clay got up and changed. He could hear everyone talking downstairs, seems like everyone else woke up. Clay decided to walk downstairs and sneak through the back door. He quickly jumped in his car and turned on the engine. Nothing mattered at this point. All he wanted to do was escape. Clay pulled out of the drive way and drove. There was no destination. He just kept going.

After a while of driving, everything calmed down. A nice beach stop seemed appealing. He pulled over and walked towards the beach. It was like an alternate universe, just him and the soothing waves. There was no one else in sight. He sat on the soft sand, feeling it's warm touch between his fingers. Clay didn't allow it: thoughts. He breathed in and listened to the calm waves.

He can't run away from his problems forever. Sooner or later it'll catch up eventually. Clay took out his phone. Messages piled up.

**Nick**

Dude where are you?

**Clay**

Sorry i just had to get out for a bit :) Don't worry i'll be back soon 

Clay returned to his car and started driving. He drove around for a while, admiring the scenery. At one point he stopped at some shops in some town he wondered into. There was a cute coffee shop nearby so he decided to grab something to eat. Time was moving too fast. Some godly being was trying to push him to face everything he didn't want to even imagine. It eventually got dark out, but he kept driving. The moon towered the sky. It was time to go back. And so he did.

The house was dark. Everyone must've went to sleep. How selfish could he be. He got tied up in his own emotions, made George upset and ran off like a child. Clay noticed that Nick's car was parked differently. As he opened the door he saw the kitchen was messy with dishes and board games. It seemed like everyone had a good time, they must've gone out too. He checked the time. 1:52 am. His head was pounding; he needed sleep. He walked up the stairs and entered the room.

He quickly showered, dried himself off and slipped on a pair of boxers and got under the sheets. He closed his eyes. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working. 39 minutes and he still can't fall asleep.

Those teary eyes. Those beautiful, teary eyes. His heart sank into what seems like an abyss.

_What have I done?_

Clay got up and walked to George's room. This was the only thing that felt right to do. He entered and walked to the bed. His breathing was gentle. George was fragile. And yet Clay broke him.

Clay climbed into the bed and got under the sheets. He placed his head on George's neck and warped his arms around him. He couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears welled up in his eyes and fell onto George's bare chest. He quietly sobbed in remorse. The world around him felt like it was falling apart, and he needed George to be there. Just the two of them.

He whispered, "George, I'm so sorry."


	14. Tormented

Content Warning: Strong language, abuse/violence  
___________________________________

_"The fuck are you gonna do faggot?" The older teen pinned George on the ground with his foot, digging into his small chest. His friend helped George become unmovable. He tried to get out of his hold, but he couldn't, they were too strong._

_"Please let m-me go!" Tears was racing down his face. The pain was becoming unbearable._

_"Ha! He's crying like a little bitch." He groaned as they picked George up by the collar of his shirt and pinned him up against the brick wall._

_"Little fags like you should be dead, but sadly we can't kill you" They chuckled, "Do it." George looked over at the other teen. He had a lit cigarette. His eyes widened in terror._

_"No, please don't." George could barley speak through his crying. As the cigarette moved closer to his arm, he tried everything in his power to escape his hold. He pushed and pulled but nothing could release him._

_"Stop fucking moving!" The teen raised his arm and punched George across the face. He could taste blood. Before he could look down, he felt the sensation of the cigarette touching his soft skin. He could smell his skin burning. George screamed in agony. The pain was unbearable, he couldn't form words. The older teens laughed in amusement as George broke down and sobbed in front of them._

_"P-please stop," his voice was uncontrollably shaking._

_"Oh my god shut up, you're so fucking annoying." He grabbed George and threw him on the ground. Before he could even react, both teens violently beat George on the ground. They repeatedly kicked him in the the face, stomach and legs. George shut his eyes, tears falling down his face, he tried to hold everything in. He was becoming numb._

_"Hey!" The two teens stopped and looked up._

_"Stop that! Leave that boy alone!" George looked over. It was some random old lady._

_"Shit, let's go." The two boys ran off._

_"Are you okay?" George heard the lady say in the distance. He got up, petrified. "I called the police, just stay there, they'll be here soon." He felt his heart racing. His anxiety made his stomach turn._

_No, no, I don't wanna be hurt again._

_The lady walked closer to him._

_"Do you need anything?"_

_George's entire body shook violently. George suddenly began sprinting, wanting to get away._

_"Hey! Come back!" George didn't look back. He kept running. He ran through the busy streets, tripping a couple times on his feet. He became breathless, people turned their heads and watched him, but he kept going. He looked down the street at the dirty, cluttered, run down houses. He saw his house and dashed inside. He shut the door behind him and ran to his room. He slammed shut the door and dropped to his knees._

_George broke down again. Sobbing on the floor._

_Why me? What did I do?_

_He got onto his bed, closing his eyes, wanting to disappear. He slowly drifted into sleep._

_The sound of the front door opening woke George up. He heard heavy foot steps getting closer to his door. He laid in bed, trying to pretend he was asleep. The door swung open. He felt the presence soon stand over him. The presence grabbed George by the hair, making him yelp._

_"The fuck happened to you?" The man said._

_George's breathing became heavy. "Nothing."_

_The man laughed, "What? You get beat up again?"_

_George looked down, his head still being held up by the man._

_"Forget how to speak?" His deep, raspy voice was enough to make him shiver. He refused to talk._

_"Damn, they got you good." The man broke out into a laughter. His laughing quickly became more hysterical. He stepped back, leaning over trying to catch his breath from laughing so much. George looked down, balling his hand into a fist._

_"It's not funny..." George whispered._

_The man stopped laughing._

_"What the fuck did say to me?"_

_George looked at the man in the eyes._

_"It's not funny." George raised his weak voice._

_The man walked over, grabbed him by the neck, dragged him of the bed and held him up to his face. The mans breath reeked of alcohol._

_"You're the reason why your mom left. You're the reason why my life is a fucking shit hole." His voice became louder, George tried to gasp for air,"No one loves you, you ungrateful fucking piece of shit!" The man let go of George and punched him across the face, drawing more blood from his beaten face._

_All of his anger finally reached it's limit. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't._

_"FUCK YOU!" George with all his might charged at the man and pushed him over, falling to the ground. The man groaned in pain as he fell to the floor. George as fast as he could ran out of the room and towards the front door._

_"Get back here!" The man screamed._

_This was it. He's never returning to this place. George ran and kept running. As he made it to the end of the street, he looked back. The man wasn't following him. George took this opportunity to make it as far as he could. He didn't care where he was going; he wanted to get away. After a couple of minutes of sprinting, he stopped. He stopped outside of the downtown area. George saw an empty alley way, he walked through and sat down._

_He brought his knees to his chest, looking at the dirty ground. Strangely, he felt, happier. He's finally gone, away from that horrid place. George closed his eyes and nodded off into sleep._

_The entire day went by, turning into the late evening. George woke up to a dark sky. He propped himself up and sat there. He didn't know what to do_   
_so he sat there._

_"Hello?" George jumped. He looked up, it was a young male police officer._

_"What's your name?" His heart started racing._

_"G-George." The police officer stepped out of the alley way._

_"Hey! I found him!" George backed up further into the dark alley way._

_A young woman appeared at the entrance._

_"Hi George! My name is Mary, I'm with NSPCC, we're here to take care of you." She reached out her hand, but George wanted nothing to do with them._

_"P-please go away." He cried. The police officer stepped in front of her._

_"We're here to help. We've been getting reports about you, from your school and today. We just want to help."_

_"How old are you?" Mary asked._

_His hands started shaking._

_"T-Twelve," George couldn't stop himself stumbling over his words._

_No, I don't wanna go back. Please leave me alone._

_"Sweetie everything is going to be okay." Mary tried to reassure him with her sweet voice._

_He didn't buy any of it. This must've been set up by his dad. George did the only thing he was good at. He got up and ran past them._

_"Hey! Stop!" he heard the police officer yell._

_He ran, he didn't know where he was going but he just kept running. He quickly turned around and saw the police officer chasing after him. George picked up the pace, he ran faster than he could possibly go. It was hard to see, darkness was consuming the city. George noticed a bridge, there was an opening that could lead him under it. He took a sharp left, managing to lose the officer._

_George took the chance and went though the opening. He tumbled down the slanted cement, but eventually he made it to the bottom. He ran to the farthest pillar and sat behind it._

_He sat still, hoping he got away. No matter how much he ran, or how far he got, he couldn't escape. His problems only followed him where ever he went. George brought his knees to his small chest, bursting out into tears._

_"George?"_

_He looked up. He could barely see anything. The tears filling his eyes made it even harder to see._

_"George!"_

_The sound was coming from all around him._

_He covered his ears with his hands, shutting his eyes tight. He wanted it to stop._

_"George!"_

_He couldn't take it anymore. It was becoming deafening. It could make his ears bleed._

_"SHUT UP!" George yelled. He continued to sob._

_"George, it's okay. I'm here."_

_"PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!" George let out a blood curdling scream into the silence._

_"JUST STOP IT ALREADY"-_

George got up and opened his eyes, gasping for air.

"George! Are you okay?" He turned his head. It was Clay. He didn't care when or how, but seeing his face brought him comfort.

"George, it was just a bad-" George threw himself in Clay's arms and broke down crying. He hugged him tight. His warmth was comforting. He felt Clay wrap his arms around him, hugging him close to his body. Clay laid both of them down and wrapped the blankets around both of them.

Clay rubbed the back of George's soft hair back and forth. He continued to cry into his bare chest, tears ran down his body, falling onto the bed. The moonlight peaked through the window curtain, letting enough light in to see Clays face.

He didn't know why or how, but George had a special feeling in his heart for Clay. And being close to him like this only made it stronger.

"I-I'm sorry." George whispered.

"Shh, there's nothing to be sorry about. I'm here." Clay softly spoke.

Eventually, George calmed down. Slowly but steadily he breathed, allowing him to think clearly.

"Go back to sleep. I promise everything is gonna be okay."

George closed his eyes, slowly falling asleep in his arms.

Soon enough, daylight came. The room was filled with warm colors. His eyes slowly opened, revealing Clay's peaceful, sleeping face. George placed his hand on the side of his face, rubbing his cheek with his thumb. Regret came back. George wasn't exactly sure what his feelings are for Clay. But Clay made him feel safe, worthy and happy; feelings that weren't common in his day to day life. And yet, something else felt missing in his heart. But, no matter how hard he searched, he couldn't find it.

He watched as Clay slowly opened his eyes.

"Good morning," Clay whispered.

George smiled, "Good morning."

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yeah," he paused, "Thank you for being here."

Clay smiled at him, "Of course." Clay looked away.

"George, I'm so sorry about yesterday. I was just having a bad morning and, I took it out on you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me. I really care about you and I didn't want to hurt you." He looked back into his eyes.

George wasn't angry, he couldn't be angry at Clay.

"It's okay. I understand." George reassured him.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"I can tell that we're both dealing with our own demons. And, can we make a promise?"

George looked into his uneasy eyes.

"What is it?" George asked.

"That, whenever we're having a rough time, we can tell each other anything? I feel like I've been scared to tell you anything because I don't wanna, change our friendship, or anything."

_Change our friendship? What does that mean?_

Although, George found his words comforting.

"Yes, of course. Thank you." They smiled at each other. A dinging from Clay's phone got their attention. Clay checked his phone.

"Everyone wants to check out this market downtown. We should get ready, they want to leave soon."

"Okay."

"I'll be downstairs soon. Text me if you need anything." Clay reassured him.

"Okay," George smiled.

He watched as Clay get up and leave the room. George turned in bed to look at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, trying to process his feelings. He had to try to make the best out of this trip. It wasn't going to last forever.

He only wished it'll get better from here.


	15. Happy

He could barely keep his eyes open. George nodded off, being periodically shaken by the bumpy road. He felt a nudge on his left shoulder.

"Hey sleepy head, we're almost there." George turned his head to look at Clay, "You could've stayed back and slept in if you really wanted too. Sleep is important." He sounded concerned.

Something about his words made him happy. Although it sounds simple; it meant a lot. His cheeks became pink.

"It's okay, I might take a nap when we get back." George yawned.

"If you want to leave at any point just let me know." His voice became warm, comforting. But his words were piercing, pricking at his skin; sharp enough to draw blood. Comfort was a guilty pleasure, but it has a cost. He couldn't afford to be an annoyance, a pest of some kind. The thought of anyone, especially Clay, being bothered by him would be a death sentence. But for the last couple of nights, they've shared the same bed.

_What was Clay doing in my bed this morning?_

He couldn't get through Clay's head. Is Clay playing with him? Is this a joke? It's like a math problem deemed impossible to calculate.

Even with his comforting words, George still felt reluctant. He couldn't let himself give in into whatever is going on between the two of them.

"Clay, it's okay, stop worrying about everything. I'm okay."

They both looked ahead at the road. He only felt embarrassment. Out of the millions things he could've thought of; he thought about Clay. Even indulging in something that felt good, but so wrong; Clay existed in his mind. And for what reason? The embarrassment soon morphed into shame. Infidelity cannot exist in a platonic relationship, but in this universe, it does. All he wanted to do is scream and let all his frustration out. He failed to realize that deep thoughts can terrifyingly warp time, because as George looked up, they had arrived at the street market.

"Okay, let's go," Clay said in a happy tone. George was caught off guard. He saw everyone on his right else leaving their cars and heading towards the heart of the market.

The market peacefully laid besides the ocean, creating a beautiful picture. There was an endless amount of vendors wrapped around the large lot. Anything you could possibly imagine, they sold here; food, locally grown fruits, vegetables, desserts, clothing, jewelry, and much more. Adorable lights, artsy signs and pictures decorated many of the stands, trying to allure potential customers, and it worked.

He watched as everyone run and check out all the interesting vendors and what they were selling. George stayed behind, the large crowds circulating throughout the main pathway made him nervous.

"Wanna go over there?" George looked at Clay, he pointed over to the left side of the market where it was less populated. His heart grew warm.

"Sure," George smiled.

They walked over to check out the other vendors away from the bustling street. He saw Clay walk up to a stand, a young woman greeted the both of them. Looking down, a wide variety of rings, necklaces, bracelets and jewelry caught his attention. Beautiful crystals embellished each piece of jewelry, carefully hand crafted; George could only wish he had a talent like that.

"Is this cool?" Clay's question caught him off guard. Clay placed his wrist in front of his face. He had picked out a brown leather woven bracelet decorated by shiny crystals.

"Yeah! I like that one, everything here is so cool." He watched as Clay smiled.

"I think I'm gonna get it."

George walked around to the other side, continuing to admire the rest of the jewelry. Conversation across the other side distracted him, Clay was purchasing the bracelet he picked out, although something else was in his hand.

_Maybe he's buying something else?_

He saw Clay slip something in his front pocket after buying his things. George looked down, he didn't want to look like he was eavesdropping. Clay walked over to the other side.

"Okay, wanna go look at some more stuff?" Clay happily asked.

"Yeah!"

George closely followed Clay from behind. His hands laid right besides his body; if only he could hold it. George looked down.

_What is this feeling?_

These thoughts lingered inside of his head for the last couple of days. He couldn't help but reimagine Clay's warm, comforting hands wrapped around his body for the last couple of nights. He was like a magnet; no matter how far George could run, something was drawing him back to Clay. But why? George watched as Clay check out many of the different kinds of homemade products that surrounded both of them.

They stopped at a stand; a stand he couldn't take his eyes off of. The table was covered in cakes, pastries, baked goods, candies, lollipops; sweets. He stared at the candies. George fiddled with this fingers, then squeezing his hands tightly. He looked down, his heart slowly sank.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Cold, bleak, gray walls surrounded him. The only thing that broke the repeating patterns of the bare walls was the dull, metal door in front of him. He hadn't stopped crying since the car ride here. This was supposed to be the time, the time where he was supposed to get away, to live a new life free from the pain he could never stop feeling._

_There had to be something to make it numb, something to make it stop._

_George silently sat still on the chair, with his knees to his chest. His vision was blurry from the tears and constant rubbing. His eyes darted across the room, his eyes eventually landed on the small bowl that sat still on the table in front of him. He hadn't given it much thought. He wondered what was inside. Poison? Needles?_

_He was hesitant to look inside. George placed his feet on the floor and slowly leaned over the table to see what was inside the white, ceramic bowl._

_Candy._

_It was filled to the brim, full of so many types of small candies. He stared into the bowl, trying to decide if he was daring enough to take one. It was alluring, almost as if they were asking to be eaten._

_He slowly reached inside and grabbed one. It was covered in a blue wrapper, sticking out from the rest, like a sore thumb. He unwrapped the candy and held it between his fingers. It was soft to the touch, probably a taffy of some kind. The candy itself was blue, but it wasn't a dark blue, but rather, a soft baby blue. He admired it for a couple of seconds before he finally popped it inside of his mouth._

_He chewed._

_It was sweet, tasty. It melted instantly and he eventually swallowed._

_George stared at the bowl. He wondered what other candies there were to eat. He grabbed another one. This time it was hard. He swirled it around for a bit before he viscously bit down, breaking the candy into small pieces scattered all over inside of his moth. It was sour, then sweet. It was something so new to him._

_He took another, then one more, then a couple more. Wrappers quickly covered his side of the table. It was electrifying, the taste became better with each one. As he chewed, he felt something on his fragile face._

_Tears._

_Tears silently ran down his face. The candy, this feeling._

_This feeling._

_He finally realized. This was Happiness._

_He was finally happy. After so many beatings, pain, blood, he was finally happy._

_George broke down crying, sobbing into his hands. But he wasn't crying in sorrow, but in happiness. This can't go away, this was exactly what we was looking for, he wasn't sure how far he would've had to run to find it, but he was glad he did. More tears kept falling, all accompanied by a genuine smile._

_George looked up as he heard the door clank open. It was young, brown-haired woman. She smiled at him as she sat down, sitting across from George._

_His happiness dissolved faster than it had appeared._

_"Oh boy! Looks like you love sweets!" She laughed. George stared her blankly. He nervously squeezed his hands together in his lap._

_"So, you're George, correct?" She asked. George nodded._

_She continued to speak softly, "George, please, don't be scared," she smiled, "We're just here to talk, okay? I want to get to know you! Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions?"_

_George shakily whispered, "Okay."_   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A loud bang made him jump.

He looked up, he realized it was coming from the main street. A band full of drums, brass, and trumpets rampaged through. It was almost like a raging symphony, playing music similar to jazz. People turned their heads, cheering on the band. Although as exciting as it seemed, it was loud, deafening. George took a step back, slowly backing away from the commotion. A swarm of people quickly divided Clay and himself.

_No._

His heart started racing, making his chest hurt. The increasingly loud music made his head pound over and over. People carelessly bumped into him left and right, trying to get to center of attention. George turned around, trying to look for an escape; somewhere to get away. His eyes focused on the calm beach that looked like it infinitely stretched over his field of view.

He quickly turned around and left the crowd, finally being able to breathe. He headed towards the beach, finding a wooden walkway that leads to the sand. He walked along the beach, just to get far enough from all the commotion. He sat down on the sand and exhaled. The waves were calm, almost in sync with with his breathing.

_What's wrong with me? Why can't I be normal._

All George wanted in life was to fit in. To be normal, but no matter how hard he'd try; it wouldn't work. He found it impossible to create any new friends, he couldn't afford to lose to lose anyone else. He couldn't lose Clay.

George's phone ringing got his attention, he pulled it out of his pocket only to find out it it was Clay who was calling. He brought his phone to his ear.

"George, where are you? I can't find you, are you okay?" There was a sense of urgency in his voice. Pain only grew in George's chest.

"I'm okay, at the beach."

"Okay, I'll come find you." He heard him hang up the call.

George continued to sit and admire the calm, soothing waves. He could barely form a thought before Clay eventually found him.

"Hey!" George looked up, looking at Clay.

"Oh, hey." Clay sat down on the sand and sat besides George.

"I thought I lost you!" Clay chuckled.

George looked back at the ocean, "Yeah."

There was a slight pause, "Everything okay?"

God, his words. Something about his words stuck with him. It was comforting to hear his voice, but it was sickening. How could he make Clay worry so much about him? George couldn't keep everything in, he had to try harder. He couldn't see his friend become so worried - especially someone unworthy like himself.

"Huh? Yeah! I'm fine! I just wanted to see the water." George painfully smiled.

Clay looked into George's eyes for a couple of seconds, "George, if you want you leave we can, maybe going out like this wasn't the best idea, you didn't sleep that well."

_What the hell?_

Clay truly baffled him. It was like he could see through him, or read his mind; it was beautifully terrifying. It was a trait he loved, but hated at the same time.

George didn't know what to say, he waited for Clay to hopefully break the silence.

"Are you hungry? We can go out to eat, I'll pay!" George looked at Clay. He was smiling from ear to ear; a ray of sunshine.

"Sure, but what about the others?" George asked.

Guilt quickly seeped into his skin. Clay is always paying for everything, constantly looking out for him, and George feels like he's disconnected from everyone else. He couldn't do anything right. George grew frustrated with himself; but he couldn't turn down his offer, the only option was to go with it.

"Don't worry about it, they're all busy," Clay stood up, "Come on, let's go!" Clay let out his hand, gesturing to help him up.

_Why is he being so nice?_

Despite Clay being so nice to him, he still felt bad. George held onto his hand and and got up. They dusted themselves off. George followed Clay from behind. He glanced at the market as they walked by. The market just became another stupid example of his fragileness, the lack of growth. So many years has gone by, and his demons are still tormenting him, making it impossible to grow, to become stronger. They arrived at Clay's car and climbed in.

He saw Clay send some text's to someone; probably Nick or something.

"What do you wanna eat? Craving anything?" Clay smiled at George.

_Yes ... something sweet._

"I'm fine with anything, anything you like is fine with me." George smiled back.

"Want pizza? I know an awesome place." Clay said.

"Sounds good! Let's go."

Clay connected his phone to the car and played some music. He pulled out of the parking lot and pulled into the busy street. George looked out the window on his side. His eyes didn't focus on anything in particular.

_Clay._

The man sitting right besides him, the man who has showed him so much affection. What does of any of this mean? George slowly realized.

Clay makes him happy.


	16. Growth

_George. I wish I can make you feel better. I wish I can fix you. Please just give me the chance._

He felt like he was failing. Failing at being his friend; the one he feels like he was supposed to protect. Clay tightened his grip on the steering wheel. All he wanted to do was to have a deep conversation with George, get to know him better; know what his demons were. Although, his best shot was this morning, and granted, everyone wanted to go the market.

"George, I'm sorry that I dragged you along here. It would've been better if we stayed back."

_God, how more annoying can I be._

_What if ... I'm the one who's making him so nervous?_

"No you're fine. Please stop worrying about it." George's tone sounded relaxed.

"Well, when we're done eating, did you wanna go back? Are you still tired?" Clay looked ahead at the road, he realized they were almost at the restaurant.

"Uh, I'm not that tired anymore. We can take our time."

He wondered if George was lying. He had to be. It bothered Clay how George pretended he was fine all the time, where he could clearly see him in pain. It was like seeing George walking around with a knife in his stomach, trying to pretend it wasn't there, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

Clay saw the place he picked out in his view. It was an authentic Italian restaurant, one of his favorites. Him and his family used to come here often when he was younger, leaving an imprint on his mind. Clay has been wanting to take George out like this; just the two of them. He just hopes only good things would come out of this.

Thankfully the restaurant wasn't too busy. Clay found a parking spot near the entrance and turned off the car. Walking inside, nostalgia hit him straight in the face. Although the restaurant has been through some renovations throughout the years, Clay can remember what is used to look like; the old, 90's furniture, grandma-style wallpaper and the vintage table clothes. Now it morphed into a modern structure with modern decoration, fitting in with the new times. Clay walked up to the receptionist.

"Just the two of you?" The waitress smiled.

"Yes!" Clay smiled back at her.

The waitress led them to the back end of the restaurant, away from the rest of the patrons. She sat them down at a booth that sat next to the large windows.

"Can I start you guys off with a drink?" She happily asked.

"Can I get an iced tea?" Clay asked. Iced tea was one of his favorite drinks, especially as a kid. The waitress turned to look at George.

"Uh, I'll just have water."

_Maybe he's just thirsty, water would be the best option._

"Alright I'll be right back with those!"

Clay saw George blankly look at the menu. His face was beautifully lit by the warm sunlight. It was sad to think about how perfect George was; but how he couldn't be happy, it didn't match. Also, Clay noticed how George didn't eat anything. He barely picked at his food the one time Clay made him breakfast.

"So I was gonna order a pizza that we can share, it's so good, what toppings do you want?" Clay asked, George looked up.

"Anything is fine with me."

"Okay," Clay smiled.

_Maybe I should just get cheese, or pepperoni?_

Perhaps he's also just a picky eater, combined with the stress he's been experiencing lately; he isn't eating that much.

"Do you want anything else? Like pasta or something? They have amazing soup here."

"No it's okay." George suddenly sounded sad. Clay's heart ached.

There was a slight pause, Clay looked into his eyes, "George? Are you sick? Do you feel okay?" George had a surprised look on his face, as if he wasn't expecting that question.

"Um, no everything's alright-" George was interrupted by the waitress.

"Alright, here you go," she placed their drinks in front of them, "So are you guys ready to order, or do you need another minute?" Clay thought if he should order something else to eat for George.

"Yeah, so we're gonna do a medium pepperoni pizza, thin crust, and for the soup, can we get two chicken gnocchi's?"

"Absolutely! Will that be all?" She asked.

_Well, I am hungry._

"Can I also do the the chicken alfredo?"

"Sure! Is that everything?"

"Yes" Clay felt embarrassed ordering so much food.

"Okay, I'll be back when your order is ready!" She exclaimed and walked off to attend to the other people at the restaurant. Clay looked at George, he continued to look down at the table.

"Hey."

George looked up, waiting for Clay to speak. George became flustered, his cheek's became red, "Yeah?"

"You feeling okay?" he asked again.

George sighed, "It's just last night, the dream I had. But don't worry, it's normal."

Clay wanted to ask, but it wasn't the right time or space, "Okay," he smiled.

"I also feel bad, I feel like I'm never with the rest of the group. It's kinda selfish of me." he didn't make eye contact with Clay, he refused. 

"Don't feel bad. This isn't going to be the last time we ever see each other," Clay giggled, "I told them you weren't feeling your best, and they understand, no one is mad at you." George looked out the window, Clay noticed his eyes become watery.

Surprisingly but quietly he said, "George, please don't cry! Wait, is it something I said? I'm sorry!" Clay took his hand and held George's hand across the table. He held his hand tight. He didn't feel George hold his hand back.

George cleared his throat, "It's fine." He smiled, "I, really appreciate that." George wiped his tears. Clay felt his heart grow warm; this is one of the first times he felt like George opened up to him. It was like watching a flower slowly bloom into something magnificent. Clay let go his hand and put it into his lap.

The waitress returned and placed the steaming, fresh pizza in front of them. She then gave them the rest of the food they ordered, "Do you guys need anything else?"

"No thank you, we're good!" Clay said. She smiled and walked off. Both of them grabbed a slice of pizza and started eating their food. Taking a bite of the pizza brought so many memories back to him, it was just as amazing like it was so many years ago.

He noticed George slowly eating his soup, chewing on the gnocchi.

_Hopefully he likes it._

He saw George eat more of his soup, and more. Clay smiled. He didn't know what was stopping George from eating, but it made him happy that he was. Clay felt his stomach rumble from hunger, so he began chowing down on his pasta.

After sometime, Clay finished his pasta, soup and three slices of pizza. At this point he started to feel full.

"Ugh, I'm full," he saw George smile. George had only eaten his soup and one and and half slices of pizza. The waitress came back, asking them one last question, "Want dessert?" The question was tempting, but he was full.

"No, I'm good," He looked across the table. George had a look of anticipation, something he wanted. Clay's face lit up, he nodded at George in approval.

"Can I have vanilla ice cream with sprinkles?," George shyly asked.

"Sure thing!" She happily walked off.

Clay found it strange how fast he was to order ice cream, although, it was ice cream. Who doesn't love ice cream?

The waitress came back with his dessert, she placed it in front of George."Was this on one bill?"

"Yes!" Clay said.

"Perfect! Let me know if you need anything else." She placed the check on the table.

"I'll be right back, I'll go take care of this." Clay headed over to the reception area to pay for the bill, he exchanged come words with the worker and quickly paid; he didn't want to leave George alone for too long. Once he got back to the table he sat down, and to his surprise, George had finished his ice cream. Granted, it was not that much but it was quick.

"Oh, you're already done!" Clay jokingly laughed. He quickly regretted what he said; he himself wasn't in the position to say something like that, especially after eating so much food.

"Y-yeah," George blushed in embarrassment.

"Wanna go back?" Clay asked.

"Sure."

Both of them got up and headed out to his car. Clay started the engine and pulled out out of the parking lot and entered into the busy street. This is exactly how he wanted things to turn into. Clay saw a glimpse of George's inner-self; a light seeping through a crack, and it was beautiful to see. Although, it was just the tip of iceberg, if even that. Regardless of his love for George, he was still determined to become the one he could go to; the one he could lean on.

The road was bumpier than usual. Clay quickly turned to look at George and to no avail, he was sleeping. Clay slowly moved his hand to George's, holding it softly.

_I love you so much._

After some time, they finally made it back. He pulled into the driveway and pulled out his phone. He texted Nick.

**Clay**

George and I are back. Where are you guys?

**Nick**

Out to eat we'll be back soon >:)

**Clay**

Alright cool also George is gonna sleep for a bit so dont be loud when you come back

**Nick**

Okayyyyyy

Clay looked back at George, his quiet snores filled the car. He climbed out and softly shut the door on his side. He walked over to the other side and opened the door. Clay unbuckled George's seatbelt and lifted him from the seat, carrying him in his arms.

George didn't weight much; which somewhat worried Clay for some reason, but he shouldn't worry about that now. He managed to open the front door and carry him up the stairs. George hadn't reacted to any of the movement. Clay couldn't get over how cute he was when we slept.

He carefully placed George onto his bed and wrapped him under the blankets.

Clay's phone suddenly ringing made him jump.

_Shit_

He ran out of the room and quietly shut the door behind him. He answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"We're coming back!" Nick yelled.

"Okay, jeez stop yelling," he laughed. Clay slowly walked down the stairs.

"Alright bye."

"Bye-" Nick hung up the call before he could finish.

10 minutes passed and until he finally heard someone pull up in the driveway. He saw his friends walk through the door. He smiled at everyone; Nick, Darryl, Zak, Lucas, then Alex. Clay looked away from the door.

He felt his body heat up with anger.

"What's up! What did you guys do?" Clay looked up, it was Nick.

"Oh, uh, we went to eat at this italian restaurant. It's was really good!" Clay said.

"So, what's up with George? Is everything alright?" Darryl asked. He sounded confused.

"Hey, uh you guys? Can I be serious for a second?" The air suddenly became heavy, filling up with tension, "So, I don't personally know what's going on and I don't want to speak for George. But, he's going through some personal stuff and sometimes he needs space." Clay's hand became sweaty.

"Oh, well let him know that we love him and support him," he saw Darryl smile. Moments like this made him so grateful for the friends he has.

"Wanna go outside?" Nick suggested.

Everyone went outside to enjoy the sun. Nick played music from his speakers and everyone broke out into conversations. Darryl took the responsibility of bringing out confusing board and card games.

After a couple of hours of arguing and yelling, hunger took over the group. Zak offered to order chinese food from the same place they ordered a couple days ago. As the food was being delivered, Clay thought he'd better wake George up for some food.

He walked upstairs and slowly entered into George's room.

"O-oh, you're awake?" George was sitting on the bed, scrolling on his phone. He walked towards the bed.

"Yeah, I wasn't able to sleep much, do you need something?" George asked."

"Oh yeah, we ordered chinese food, it's almost here."

"Okay!" George got up and walked downstairs to the kitchen with Clay.

"Hey! What's up dude?" Nick asked.

"Good things, is the food here?" George asked.

"Yes!" He heard Zak from the entrance with Lucas, they held two large bags of the food. They brought the food to the table and everyone immediately dug in, ripping the bags open like starving animals.

George sat still as he watched everyone eat. Clay looked at George, he leaned over, "Do you want some?" George nodded.

"Can we share? I'm not that hungry." George asked.

"Of course," Clay smiled. He reached over and put more food onto his plate. He handed George a fork, inviting him to eat. George slowly but surely picked and ate his food; another pedal sprouting from the flower.

The afternoon soon turned into night. Yawns and tiredness took over the entire group. Although there was progress; Clay noticed George engaging in the silliest of conversations with everyone, showing his true self. He couldn't help but think how beautiful it was to watch.

One by one, everyone headed off into their room to sleep.

_Sleep ... should I stay with George tonight? Maybe I should see if he asks._

Both Clay and George made their way upstairs, they stopped at the entrances of their doors.

"Well, goodnight! Sleep well." Clay said.

"Goodnight." George smiled. George turned around and went inside his room, Clay did the same, letting out a sigh. He entered his bathroom and washed up for the night. As he sat down on his bed he received a text, he opened his phone to see who it was from. His heart started racing.

**Georgie**

Can you stay with me tonight? You don't have to if you don't want too

Clay nervously typed out a message.

**Clay**

Yes of course

Clay got up and headed to George's room. His heart beat faster with each step. How could one person make him so nervous? His hands became sweaty, he wiped them off before he opened the door.

He saw George laying on the bed, under the sheets. He walked towards the bed.

"Hey, uh, is it okay if I take my shirt off?" Clay asked.

"Uh, yeah go ahead," George shyly responded.

Clay stripped his shirt off and climbed into bed with George. Although it was awkward at first, they eventually found a comfortable sleeping position. George wrapped his arms around Clays torso, hugging it tight.

As nervous as he was, he found it comforting to be like this with George. He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep, listening to the soft waves in the distance.   
  


He felt something gripping onto his hand, almost causing him pain. Then the sounds of'... someone crying.

_Is this a dream?_

Clay shuffled around until he opened his eyes. This wasn't a dream. He heard more soft cries, quickly realizing it was from George. He turned his head to look at him. He was tightly holding onto his hand close to his teary face.

"George? What's wrong?"

George gasped for air, but couldn't speak, he tried everything to hold it in. Seeing him like this; it made his heart break into a million pieces. Just as the flower was sprouting, someone came along and ripped it from the root.

"Don't worry, I'm here."

George continued to gasp for air, and finally he spoke.

"C-Clay?"

His broken voice was enough to make him cry.

"Yes?"

"Can you p-promise me, something?"

"Yes."

His heart grew heavy.

George held onto his hand even tighter, tears traveling down his fragile face.

"Can you promise me that you'll never hurt me?"

Tears welled up in Clays eyes, "Yes, I promise."

Clay brought George close to his chest. Tears silently fell down his face. 

_I will never hurt you, I promise._


	17. Uncertainty [Part 1]

Content Warning: Abuse, child Abuse, body Image  
___________________________________

No matter how hard he tried to forget; they wouldn't stop. For the longest time he thought they'd go away eventually, dissolve into nothing. But they didn't. His nightmares kept bringing him back to the deep hole he was trying to climb out of. Every time he tried to climb out, the rope covered in sharp blades of glass cut him, making it impossible.

Nothing made sense when he was child. His mother left him at such a young age; the process of imaging her was almost impossible. He often wondered what she looked like. Does she have long hair, short hair? Is it brown, blonde? What color are her eyes? Although, there was no point in wondering; if she cared even the slightest bit, she would've stayed.

His only recollection of her was bits and pieces. Small figure, darker hair, but her face; he could barely remember, it could really be anyone that he passes by on the street, a stranger, a truly terrifying thought. But he always held on to the slightest chance, the smallest bit of hope that maybe one day, he'll see her.

Thinking about being the outcast hurt too much. He spent most of his days wondering why he was so disconnected from everyone else; the entire planet really. Maybe he was ugly, unattractive, or simply, he wasn't meant to fit in anywhere. But thinking about what did he do to deserve all the pain never made sense. Over time, acceptance became a numbing medicine to the never ending thorns that stabbed him deeply. 

_They'd reach her, right? She must have seen them._

_George fumbled with the colored pencils, unknowingly mis-spelling some of the words he written on the notebook paper he took from school. He'd been daring; even taking some colored pencils from another desk and asking for an envelope he asked from his teacher, something he'd only do in times like this._

_He looked at the letter he wrote. It was perfect, he knew she would love this one, she had too. Each letter was carefully written with so much effort and love. He folded the letter and inserted it inside the envelope, licking the adhesive to make it stick. The front needed one last touch._

_"To: Mommy, Form: Georgie." He'd unknowingly spelt the word "from" incorrectly. He drew some hearts all over to make it look pretty. George smiled at the letter. He got up from the table and quietly walked over to the living room to check. His father was asleep on the couch surrounded by bottles and cans, snoring into the silence._

_George ran to the front door and went outside. Thankfully, the mailbox was down the street from his house. George happily walked along the sidewalk and made it to the mailbox. He looked at the envelope and hugged it. He hoped she would write back one day. But he knew she was reading each letter he wrote._

_George slipped the envelope in the box and ran back to his house, he coincidentally saw the mail car driving to collect the mail where he just dropped it off. He watched the mail man collect the mail from the box and bring it inside the car. George jumped in excitement. He opened the front door and ran to his room, jumping onto the bed. He could only wonder where she was, what she was doing. But he knows his mom was thinking about him everyday, just like how he thinks of her; there was no way she wasn't._

_I know that dad doesn't love me. But I hope you do mommy. I'm not mad at you. I'll always love you. I'll be waiting for you._

_George smiled and hugged his pillow._

_Please write back. Please._

He gripped onto the bed sheets. Even though his reality was broken; the universe had to work in his favor, they must've magically been sent to her in some way. There had to be someone who cared back then, at least one person. George sighed.

_"_ Good morning" Clay whispered.

He looked up startled, "Oh, good morning."

"How are you feeling?" Clay asked.

"Better, thank you for staying with me." He found it surprising that Clay even came to sleep with him last night. He was his first friend after all, and he didn't know his friendships worked in real life. This is what friends do for each other, right?

Clay smiled, then frowned, "Tomorrow's the last day here."

_Already?_ Uncertainty settled into his stomach. Time has never moved so fast.

"Oh..." George didn't know what to respond with.

"Did you wanna do anything today?" Clay asked.

"No, I'm fine with whatever we do."

George looked at Clay. He laid shirtless next to him, offering him his comforting words. He found it strange how normal it seemed. Having someone so close, and act so comfortable was strange. Clay was almost like the, candy.

"I think everyone brought groceries so we're gonna have breakfast here."

There was a slight tingling sensation in his stomach. But it wasn't from hunger, it was from something else; he didn't know from where. He saw Clay smile. George suddenly realized he was blushing.

"Oh, yeah, okay."

"Okay, I'll meet you downstairs." Clay got up and left the room. George stayed laying there, thinking.

_Clay, what are you doing?_

He laid there still, hugging his pillow. Having the vacation come to and end so quickly was, unsettling. George preferred living alone, away from the world. Seeing messages, fans grow on his channels and socials was comforting. But for some reason; they didn't seem real or tangible. Being by himself was the most normal thing to happen in his life, and now even that itself is changing; it's shifting his perception of he thinks he needs, what he wants.

George freshened up in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, shaving and washing his face. He wondered what Clay saw in him that made him so comfortable with him. No one ever liked him in any sort of way, but Clay does. He's constantly going above and beyond in everything he does. 

_Why?_

He wasn't used to it. Nothing made sense. Putting that aside, he made his way downstairs to see everyone conversing in the kitchen. Clay as usual was cooking, denying help from Nick. The smell was captivating.

"Good morning Georgie!" Darryl said. He had a big smile on his face.

"Good morning!" George smiled back.

George went over to greet everyone else, until he got to;

"Uh, hey. How are you?" Alex asked.

_Not you ..._

George made awkward eye contact with Alex.

"Good, you?" George painfully asked. He saw Clay in the corner of his eye quickly turn around, then turning back when he made eye contact with Clay.

"I'm good." Alex responded. The tension could be cut with a hot knife. George could never look at Alex the same way; the attraction was gone. He doesn't know what came over him that night. It was just desperation but, he couldn't even think about Alex, he thought about,

_Clay._

George blushed, flustered. He walked over to the other side of the table and sat down. He was filled with embarrassment, wanting to disappear. Food soon was clumsily passed around by the help of Nick and Lucas. Clay had made french toast, pancakes and eggs. Everyone began eating their food while George stared at it. Although he didn't have that much desire to eat; his cooking was a gift, so he should accept.

Everyone talked around the table. Nick was telling everyone about the picture he posted with everyone at the beginning of the trip. As usual, it blew up; people were going crazy over Clay's hands and how "iconic" it was? George didn't understand, but he was happy people liked it. George tried his best to stay away from reading comments on his social media's.

_He deadass looks like a skeleton. Hes so fucking ugly LMAOOO. DIsgusting face. Your videos r shit quit already. So over-rated. How does anyone watch this shit? I've never listened to anything so annoying._

It was like back at school. The bullying never stopped. He wished he could make everyone happy.

"So when does everyone leave tomorrow?" Clay asked.

"Aw, I don't wanna talk about that!" Darryl whined. Clay laughed.

"The three of us leave, like around 2. So we'd have to leave some time before then," Lucas said.

"Zak when do we leave?" Darryl asked.

"Tomorrow."

"When silly!" Darryl exclaimed, everyone laughed.

"Around 12, remember I have stuff to do back home." Zak happily said.

"George, what about you?" Nick asked.

"Um, my plane leaves at midnight tomorrow." George shyly said.

"Oh, I can take you to the airport." Clay said. George looked at him, blushing, "Does anyone else need a ride?" Clay asked, everyone had a ride. The group seemed to be in agreement of the plan tomorrow.

"So what now?" Nick asked into the room.

"We should spend our last day as a family!" Darryl cheerfully said.

"Yeah, like drinking?" Nick suggested. No one said a word, looking at each other. Everyone soon broke out into a laughter, "Well I guess that's the plan!"

"George and I can get it." Alex said, silence took over the room. George turned his head to look at Alex wide eyed.

_What?_

_No, no, no, no ..._

He felt his heart beat faster. Anger traveled through his blood.

"Sounds good, let's get this cleaned up!" Nick said. Everyone cleaned up their plates, moving around. All George could hear is clanking and blurred out talking. His head was spinning, his vision became blurry.

_Why me, why, why can't things ever work-_

"George?"

He looked up, it was Clay, "Yeah?"

"Are you done with your food?" He asked.

"Oh, um yeah." Clay grabbed his plate and put it in the sink. George's face became flushed. He could cry. He squeezed his hands in his lap, looking down. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Clay asked. George looked in his eyes, he didn't realize his eyes were quivering.

"Yeah!" His words dripped with lies.

"Come upstairs," Clay grabbed George's wrist. They left everyone in the kitchen and went upstairs. Clay opened the door to his room and let them both inside. They sat down on his bed. For some reason, George started to feel sick, but he didn't know why.

"What's wrong?" He asked again.

"Nothing's wrong." His heart pumping made his chest hurt.

"Don't lie to me, please. Remember? We made a promise." His words were sharp, cutting through George's lies.

_No, there's no way. There's no way he knows._

He can't break, he can't tell. Everyone expects him to go with Alex, and if he doesn't; it'll just create more problems. He looked away from his gazing eyes.

"I don't wanna talk about it. I can't." George looked down. Clay placed his hand on George's face, making him look into his eyes.

"You can tell me."

George couldn't take it, not one second longer. His gleaming eyes knew something, and he didn't know what it was. He let go of his grasp and stood up.

"It's nothing. I'm going to my room now." As he stood up to walk towards the door, Clay grabbed him by the wrist.

"Wait, I'm sorry, George please don't go. I'm sorry I asked." His grasp was firm, begging him not to go.

"Let go."

Clay's eyes widened, "George I'm sorry-"

"I said let go, please." Clay let go of his tight grasp. George left the room, shutting the door behind him. He walked into his room at laid on his bed.

_Alex, fuck you Alex._

He couldn't have one day, one normal day. As this trip was ending, something had to come along and mess everything up. So much anger was building up inside him; almost leaking out. Although, regret sank in. They way he acted and spoke towards Clay was not like him; it was like an alter ego taking over.

_What the hell is going on._

George buried his face in the sheets. And then, tears. Tears of frustration ran down his face. He couldn't do anything right. He didn't want to exchange one word with that man, that stupid ugly man, Alex. And now he made Clay angry. He couldn't lose Clay. He can't. George got up and ran to his room. As he opened the door, he was greeted by an empty room. He suddenly became shaky. He reached for his phone and texted Clay.

**George**

I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You have every right to be mad, I understand. I'm sorry. Where are you?  
  
  


He tightly held onto his phone, nervously waiting for a response. After a couple of seconds, he saw him typing.   
  
  


**Clay**

What are you sorry about? I'm not mad at you :) I should be the one apologizing, im downstairs silly, come hang with us   
  
  


A wave of relief washed away all the nerves.   
  
  


_Maybe I was just, over reacting._   
  
  


He walked downstairs to join everyone else in the living room. Nick was showing everyone some sit-com on the tv, and Darryl and Lucas were arguing which minecraft mob as the most "revolutionary," whatever that means. Time sped up, then slowed down. Each passing minute only pushed George into another trip to the store with, Alex.

Hours went by, the clock ticked and the numbers changed on his phone. The group at various points in time went outside, back inside, to the kitchen, and order food. Maybe Italian? Who knows. His pounding head made it too hard to focus on anything. His phone going off grasped his attention.   
  


**Clay**

Are you sure you want to go with Alex? I can go instead  
  


As tempting his offer seemed, he couldn't accept it. It was too jarring.   
  


**George**

No it's okay. I'll go with him. Don't worry about me  
  


**Clay**

Okay   
  


And soon enough, the time came. His phone read 6:49 pm. He wished time could move slower. He heard Nick talk to Alex about some drinks and whatever it could be; but the only thing he could feel was dread.

"Okay, we'll be back soon," Alex said, George looked and stood up.

_Oh god._ He felt his heart pound inside him.

"Byeeeeee," Darryl chanted.

He followed Alex to his car. The air was thinner than usual. They both got inside, closing the doors. George refused to look in his direction. All he needed to do was avoid-

"Hey George."

His body tensed up. Nerves traveled up and down his body, making him sick.

"Can we talk?"


	18. Uncertainty [Part 2]

He could hardly breathe. The air became so thin and tense, all he wanted to do was escape. The car felt like it shrank, pushing them closer and closer together. He shakily squeezed his hands together.

Alex sighed, "About the other night," George's hand became sweaty, his breathing became deeper, "What happened?"

What was George supposed to say? _"Sorry, I thought about Clay in the middle of it."_ Although, he couldn't face the true realities that took place in his head that night. It just felt, wrong, on so many levels his brain couldn't process. George opened his mouth but no words came out.

"Was it something I did? Did I say something wrong?" George continued to look away.

"George? Please say something." He continued to look away, he could feel Alex's eyes on him.

"Can we go?" George said.

"I just wanna-"

"Let's go." George said again. Alex let out a sigh in defeat. He turned on the car and pulled out of the driveway, entering the street. George blankly stared out the window, watching the houses along the beach quickly pass his view. All he needed to do was to ignore him, stay away from him. George made a mistake. He wish he could go back in time and wished he never met Alex; or at least never had sex with him. He felt dirty, he could take a thousand showers but the shame would never wash off.

The rest of the car ride was silent, no one broke the silence. They soon arrived at the same store they went to last time. Alex found a parking stop and parked the car. They exited the car and entered the store. The cold air circulating through the store gave him chills, contrasting the warmth outside. Everything felt like déjà vu; the cart, the florescent lights, the flow of customers traveling between the aisles.

He followed Alex from behind. He tried to distract himself by looking at his phone; but with caution. All he wanted at this point is for this trip to be over, to not last one second longer than it needed to be.

"Hey."

George looked up, "Yes?" _What now?_

"Do you want anything? I'll pay." Alex smiled, trying to cover up the awkwardness.

"No thank you." George said.

He heard Alex sigh, "Are you sure?" For some reason his words frustrated him.

"Yes." He wondered how many times he needed to repeat himself. Alex didn't respond.

They walked to the other side of the store to get some liquor. George didn't pay much attention, he just waited for this to be over. They hadn't exchanged words for the rest of the trip; maybe he finally got through to Alex. They headed towards the checkout. He heard some chatter, beeps and some clanking from the bottles. George swallowed his pride and helped Alex carry the bags to the car. They set the bags in the back and climbed to the front.

George braced himself for Alex to say something; but he didn't. He turned on the car and pulled into the busy street. The car ride back was easier to breathe, not thin like it was before. Traveling back to the house, they passed by a vast park. He gazed over the vivid grass until his eyes landed on something. Two children running to their mother, jumping into her arms, almost tumbling her over. He noticed them all laugh. And as fast as they showed, they disappeared from his view. His heart grew heavy, he could only imagine what that feeling is like.

As they arrived back to the house, Alex pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Before George could move,

"We need to talk about this. It's killing me."

_Fuck_

He continued to speak, "I don't know what I did wrong. But whatever I did, I'm sorry," George stayed silent, "I really like you and I want to us to work out." Alex grabbed George by the hand. He looked up startled.

"What are you doing?" George tried to let go of his hand, but his grip was too tight.

"Please give me a chance, please, I'll make it up to you, I promise." His words spewed with desperation.

His stomach dropped, quickly being filled with fear. His heart began beating through his entire body.

"Let go of me, please." George's voice became shaky.

"George, just give me a chance."

Alex placed his hand on his leg, squeezing it tight. Something was brewing inside of his stomach, it was making him tremble.

"Stop, please." George asked again. Alex's hand traveled up his leg. Then it hit him, the realization. He was being used. As he tried to let go of his grasp, Alex reached over and grabbed him by the head and pressed his lips against George's. He felt Alex stick his tongue inside his mouth, trying to swirl it around.

He felt something build up inside him. It ravaged his entire body. He finally realized what it was; something that he hadn't felt in forever. Anger.

George let go of his hands and pushed him back. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" George screamed. His hands were violently shaking.

"I-I'm sorry-"

The anger continued to build up inside him, and quickly, it spilled over. He raised his hand, and with all of his power, he slapped Alex across his face.

The loud slap was followed by silence. Heavy breathing filled the vicious air.

George's hands continued to tremble. They looked each other in the eyes.

"Never speak to me again." George said.

Alex quickly left the car. George heard him open the back to get the bags. He saw Alex walk inside. He had to be quick; he didn't want to make this situation any worse. George took a deep breath, and exhaled.

_Holy shit._

He exited the car. All he had to do is act normal, and ignore Alex. As he walked towards the door, he looked up; he stopped dead in his tracks. He saw Clay standing behind the second floor window. The car was in perfect view. He saw everything. The second they made eye contact, Clay ran off away from the window. It was too late.

His stomach turned, flipping upside down. He could throw up.

As he walked inside, he was greeted by Nick.

"Hey! Finally you guys are back!" As tense he felt, the atmosphere in the house was light and relieving. Although this task wasn't hard; covering up his feelings was something he was used to. His eyes traveled across the room. Everyone was ripping apart the alcohol boxes, laughing. Then he finally saw him. Clay came from upstairs, slowly joining the rest of the group. He looked at George, his worried face spoke a thousand words. George pulled out his phone.   
  
  


**George**

Please don't worry about me everything is okay. I promise. lets just enjoy this night   
  
  


**Clay**

Okay but if you need anything please ask  
  
  


George saw everyone head outside to the back. He saw Clay reach out his hand for George. He could cry. His throat swelled up, threating to let out a sob, but he held it in. He walked towards Clay and they both walked outside. Conveniently, Clay sat down far away from Alex, and motioned for George to sit next to him.

Sitting next to Clay, this strange feeling came back. It made him feel relaxed, happy. It gave him a warm sensation all over. It was almost scary. He only felt it whenever he's around Clay, but he doesn't know why. After so many years, most of his feelings became numb; not being able to connect to anyone around him. Even though how disconnected it made him feel; he was thankful. Emotions were too much for him to process, sometimes he wish he could feel nothing at all like a robot, then maybe he could fit in.

A drink appeared in his hand. It's funny really. Even though he thinks he's so numb. He could still everything around him. The littlest things always grasped his attention. It was like his brain was playing a sick game inside of him. He took a swig of the drink and swallowed with everyone else. It was sweet, almost like candy. The taste lingered in his mouth; but it wasn't the same. The pungent alcohol after-taste ruined it, but of course, he needed to blend in with the rest of the group.

"Let's play this drinking game I got!" Nick suggested. The game consisted of cards with words written all over them; forcing players to drink if they fit the description of the card or win whatever small challenge the card proposed. Each card proposed things like drink if you've "had a threesome" and raunchy things like that. Zak pulled out a card from the deck, he laughed.

"Show everyone a picture of their mom, and whoever has the hottest mom take a drink."

George's stomach dropped. He saw everyone open their phones and look for pictures. His heart was beating. He had to think of something, quick.

"I have to go to the bathroom." George got up.

"You're not gonna show us your mom?!" Nick joked.

"Uh, I really have to go, go without me." He walked inside and ran to his room. He sat on his bed and sighed. Out of the millions of things that could've happened; _that_ had to happen. He didn't want to think about to too much; the thought of this mother hurt too much. He pulled out this phone and texted Clay. 

**George** ****

Can you let me know when you're done with that round?  
  


He waited for a response.   
  


**Clay**

You okay? If this makes you uncomfortable you don't have to play and yes we're done with that round   
  


**George**

Okay   
  


He went back outside to join everyone else. He sat down next to Clay. He tried his best to enjoy himself, but it was hard. The only thing putting him at ease was Clay's presence besides him. The night at this point went by quick. The moon soon came into view and the sky became dark, the air became cooler, complimenting the stars right above them. The rest of the croup felt the affects of the alcohol, but George didn't; he decided not to drink that much. The rest of the night was filled with jokes, laughs and more drinks.

Soon enough the night aged into the late hours of the night.

"Alright, I'm gonna go to bed. You guys have flights to catch!" Clay said. Everyone helped clean everything up, throwing away the trash and cleaning the kitchen.

"Someone cleans the house after I checkout, but that doesn't mean you can be gross." Clay looked at Nick.

"What are you looking at me for?!" Nick yelled, the group laughed.

Everyone headed off into their rooms. George and Clay went into their rooms separately. Sleeping with Clay became a habit at this point, and the thought of not sleeping with him after this last night made him sick. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, he sat on the toilet waiting for the water to heat up. As soon it was warm enough, he stripped off his clothes and walked inside. He closed his eyes and felt the water run down his body. He lathered his body in the soap, washed his hair and rinsed everything off.

He couldn't stop thinking about Clay. That man, his friend. Something felt different about him now, it wasn't the same when they first met. He tried his best to remember when he felt anything like this in life; any instance, a moment in time, but he couldn't think of anything. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He put on a new change of clothes and sat on his bed.

_Just one more night_

He took out his phone.   
  
  


**George**

Can I stay with you tonight?  
  
  


He let out a sigh, waiting for Clay to respond. George could only imagine what he was thinking. He wondered what thoughts played inside of his head whenever they talked. There was something about him.   
  
  


**Clay**

Yes of course :)  
  
  


George smiled, his heart was happy. He got up and walked to Clay's room. And there he was; waiting for him all bundled up under the blankets. He could run and jump into his arms, but that'd be weird. George climbed onto the bed and got under the blankets. And strangely, sadness came over him. This feeling was going to disappear soon, he wasn't going to have Clay by his side every night. How could a trip so short, feel so long?

"Clay?"

"Yes?"

George nervously swallowed, "What did you see?"

Clay sighed, "Everything pretty much, are you okay?"

"Yes, I think I finally got through to him." George became flushed.

_Shit, I think I said too much._

"Yeah, I think you did." Clay softly laughed, "You won't have to see him again after this."

"Yeah." George whispered.

"Okay, well, get some sleep." Clay pulled him closer to his chest. George wrapped his hands around his body, placing his head on his chest.

_This feeling, what is it?_

He closed his eyes, hugging Clay.

_Please don't ever leave me._


	19. Longing

The sun was high in the sky, filling the room with it's beaming rays of sunshine. The bright lights bounced off the walls, eventually landing on George's eyelids. He opened his eyes, glancing across the room. Today was going to be painful, not matter how hard he tried to avoid it, it was inevitable; he had to say goodbye. He rested his head on Clay's chest, trying to savor the moment. George listened to his steady, deep heartbeats. He placed his hand on his chest, now feeling them travel to his fingertips.

Clay's breathing was rhythmic, peaceful. His face glowed beautifully in the presence of the sunlight. George felt his stomach tingle; as if a swarm of colorful butterflies roamed around inside him. He felt his cheeks grow warm, his eyes becoming watery.

_What is this?_

He turned around and faced away from Clay; he couldn't stand to look at him anymore. His feelings weren't adding up, they weren't making any sense. Why is he feeling such strange things? He couldn't allow himself to indulge into an unknown space. He let out a deep sigh, then a gasp when he felt Clay turn around and hug him from behind, holding him close.

His eyes widened, his face turned red. He had no idea if Clay was awake, if this was even intentional. He felt Clay's breath travel down George's neck, giving him chills that traveled down to his toes. His swole, bare arms seemed like they didn't want to let go.

"Good morning?" George said in a raspy voice.

"Good morning, how'd you sleep?" Clay continued to hug him close. He was so warm, comfy. George smiled.

"Good," realization sank in; he didn't have a nightmare. George's face lit up like the ray's of sunshine wrapping the both of them, "You?"

"Good, but sad." Clay's tone became flat. But he knew why.

"Me too. I'm gonna miss everyone."

"Same, but we'll see everyone again soon." Clay reassured him. He felt Clay's grasp loosen, then back away, "O-oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was cuddling- or like, spooning you like that, sorry I didn't mean it like, that," he nervously said. George found it funny the way he became all flustered; it was cute.

_Cute?_ He felt himself blushing. _Shit._

"What time is it?" George asked, he tried his best to shake off his thought.

"Um, let me check." Clay reached over to the night stand. George couldn't help but notice his muscles tightening and releasing when he reached over. He felt his face heating up. He wanted to touch-

_Please stop._ He told himself.

Clay gasped, "It's eleven-thirty! Darryl and Zak are leaving soon. Everyone's downstairs." The urgency in his voice made the situation seem serious. They both got up from the bed and got dressed. George ran to his room and threw on the first thing he found in his suit case. He followed Clay down the stairs.

"Hey, sorry I guess we over-slept." Clay said.

"Overslept?! Of course you did, we're about to leave!" Zak jokingly said.

"Don't be mean!" Darryl scolded.

"Are you guys leaving now?" Clay asked.

"Yeah, we have to go or we'll miss our flight." Darryl said in a sad tone.

"Don't worry, we'll meet up again boys." Nick said.

Everyone exchanged hugs, saying their temporary goodbyes. George hugged Zak and Darryl, thanking them for making this trip a fun one. He watched them both leave the front door with the help of Clay and Nick carrying their bags. George let out a sigh. He noticed that himself, Lucas and Alex were the only ones the the room. He walked over to the kitchen and sat down at the table, scrolling through his phone. He heard Clay and Nick walk back inside. Everyone headed to the kitchen.

"So, do you guys want food?" Clay asked.

"Uhh, I think we'll get something along the way, we have to leave soon anyways." Nick said. Lucas and Alex were in agreement. Over the next hour or so, they talked about the trip and how relieving it was to finally see everyone. Discussions of future possible meetups ensued; giving some relief to his soul. And just like that, it was time for the rest of the group to leave.

"Bye, I'll see you soon." Clay said while hugging Nick.

"Goodbye loser," Nick teased George.

"Shut up," George laughed.

George watched as Clay say goodbye to Lucas, hugging him. Then he saw him painfully do the same thing to Alex. But it was time for George to do the same. Him and Lucas said their farewells, and embraced each other. Everyone was watching, he couldn't avoid him this time; not doing so would only create tension that he didn't need, it was a necessary evil.

They looked each other in the eyes, the tension still lingered between the two. George never held grudges, Alex was just temporary; he was used to getting hurt, he'd eventually get over it. But there was one person that haunted him every night, that one person he still couldn't forget; the one person he still held a grudge against.

George hugged Alex.

"Bye, it was nice getting to know you." George said, thankfully everyone else was chatting so the awkward exchange wasn't as noticeable, but he still had to put on the act. He felt Alex hug him in return.

"Bye." Alex whispered. They let go.

"Alright let's get going!" Nick said. The three of them picked up their bags and headed out the front door. The door shut, leaving Clay and George the last people in the house.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me." Clay said.

"Uh, yeah." George nervously said, the butterflies came back.

"We should pack our things, I have to check out of the house in an hour."

Both of them headed into their rooms. George grabbed all of his belongings that were scattered all over his room and the bathroom. He looked at the blankets, only thinking about how they shared the same bed _how_ many times. It almost became a safe haven for him; at least for this week. It made him uneasy thinking about that this whole trip will be over soon. George can't even forgive himself; he let his own issues get into something that should've gone more smoothly.

It's funny thinking about how he was worried about Clay before the trip. The phone call,

_"I guess, I just want to let you know that I'm really nervous about it."_

That was normal. But, he contradicted himself.

_"There's nothing to be nervous about."_

Now it feels like the roles switched. He felt like Clay was the one who constantly taking care of George, almost like a child. He even paid for almost everything, and yet George was constantly the outcast, making the trip worse for everyone. He has to fix this.

"You ready?" George turned around to see Clay standing in the door way.

"Uh, yeah," He stood up, "Clay," there was a slight pause, "I'll pay you back for everything. The house, the plane ticket, the food, everything. I'm sorry for everything I put you guys through. I know I'm difficult to deal with, and I probably annoyed you guys-"

Clay suddenly walked towards George and hugged him. He held George for a couple of seconds before moving his head back to look him in the eyes. Their faces were only inches apart. The butterflies were expanding inside. His cheeked glowed red.

"Stop saying sorry, there's nothing to be sorry about. We all care about you, forget about the money. I'm happy that you came," Clay moved his hands to George's waist, his heart beat only became stronger, "Come on, let's go get some food." He watched as Clay grab his bags and head downstairs. George stood there, blankly staring at the empty doorway. His heartbeat was racing. His cheeks were warm. He looked down and squeezed his hands.

_This strange feeling. This feeling he gives me. It feels ... good._

George headed downstairs. He saw Clay waiting for him in the living room.

"Ready? All the stuff is in the car." Clay smiled.

"Yeah!" George said. Clay turned off the lights, quickly double checking the lights. They both went outside and climbed into the car.

"I have to go check out, it's down this way."

Clay drove to the receptionist building that wasn't too far from the house. George stayed in the car as Clay went inside to return the key. It was only a couple of minutes before he came back.

"Alright, so what do you wanna eat?" Clay asked.

"Anything is fine with me." George's phone sounded, an alert. He took out his phone, seeing it was from his flight app. He read the message.

_"Your flight [B 0417 ORD to UK] has been rescheduled for 6:00 PM due to weather. Contact 1-800-XXX-XXXX for any questions, refunding or concerns."_

George looked at the dashboard, it read 3:41 pm.

"Oh no." His heart sank. Sinking into a bottomless pit. This couldn't be happening. But of course it did. The universe saw him having one good day and decided to snatch it away with it's sharp claws.

"What's wrong?" Clay sounded concerned.

"My flight leaves at 6, they moved it up."

"Oh, well, we have time. Don't worry." Clay smiled. His words were so, comforting. He had no idea how he was able to make him feel so cared for. Clay pulled out of the parking lot and drove along the empty road. Each minute that passed made George more uneasy. Somewhere deep inside his soul was slowly chipping away, leaving him feeling empty inside.

Clay pulled up to a local diner that was surrounded by other café's and shops. They went inside and were seated by a waiter. Clay looked at the menu, but George couldn't stop looking at Clay.

_What is it about you that I can't stop thinking about? What are you doing to me? Just tell me._

He saw Clay's lips moving, but no sound came out.

"Huh?"

"What are you getting?" Clay laughed.

"Uhh," he quickly scanned the menu, "the chicken wrap looks good."

"That sounds good, I think I'm gonna get a burger."

The waiter came back and took their orders. This wasn't good. Time was moving too fast. In the mean time, they talked about too many things to remember. Clay brought up new video ideas that they could film, definitely some funny ones. The conversation was friendly, until Clay brought something else up.

"So, have you had any luck with dating?" George stopped drinking his water, he nervously placed his cup down.

"N-no, not really. You?" _Why is he asking me this?_

"Same," Clay laughed, "Do you have a type? Is there anyone you like?" As innocent as his question was, it made his heartbeat speed up. His hands became sweaty.

"No I don't-, I don't think so. Do you?" George didn't know what else to ask.

"Uhh," he paused, "Well, there is _one_ person I have my eye on."

_What?_

George became flushed, his face turned red. His body became full of despair. He didn't know what he wanted to hear, but It wasn't that.

"You okay? You're red." Clay said.

"Oh! Um, yeah. Sorry. Cool, cool."

_God, stop being so stupid._

The waiter came back and placed their food in front of them, "Do you guys need anything else?" He asked.

"No, we're good, thank you," Clay said. The waiter walked away. Both of them began to eat their food, and to come to think of it, George's appetite was hungrier than usual. By the time George was almost done with his food, Clay had already finished. To be fair, it was their first meal of the day.

"All done?" Clay asked.

"Yes and, can I pay?" George asked.

"Sure!" Clay smiled. The waiter came back with the check, giving George the chance to finally pay for something. At this point, he's been feeling like a freeloader of some kind. After paying the bill at the receptionist area, they both left the diner and headed to the car. Entering the car, George realized that over an hour has passed. His heart only sank deeper.

"I think we should head to the airport." Clay suggested.

"Yeah probably." George tried to mask the despair in his voice.

Clay did what he suggested and drove to the airport. Clay expressed that he really wants to visit the UK, since he's never been there. The thought of him coming to visit was, electrifying; it was want he wanted to hear. Over the course of this trip, he truly feels more connected to the person he met on a Minecraft server as a child. He remembers his squeaky voice, his passion for winning whatever game they played. The excitement he felt when he would finish his studies and run to the computer was the most vivid thing he could remember. Clay was the only person that helped him get through the foster care system, because of him, his loneliest night's always turned into something that he would never forget.

And now he's sitting right besides him, driving him to the airport. Never in a million years he thought this would happen, the trip, these weird feelings; he never wanted it to end, but it eventually had to. He realized that they were at the airport. Huge buildings, bustling parking lots and streets surrounded them. Clay struggled to get through, but he found a spot near an entrance. Time was running out.

"Want me to come with you?" Clay asked.

"Yes, please."

They exited the car and retrieved his bags from the back of the car. They crossed the busy street and entered the large, automatic doors. Clay looked at George's ticket and led the way. Huge signs with combinations of numbers and words intimidated him, but thankfully he had Clay helping him get through the busy airport. After a couple minutes of walking they made it to the gate.

"Well, we're here."

"Yeah, thanks for helping me." George said.

"No problem," Clay smiled, "I had a lot of fun, really, thank you for planning everything. I'm really happy that I finally got to see you."

George felt his throat swell up. His words meant to much to him. Never in his life has someone been so kind, and for what reason?

"It was really nice seeing you too," George paused, "Thank you for putting up with me, you didn't have to do the things that you did."

Clay smiled, "Of course, I'd do anything for you." A feeling of emotions came over George. He squeezed his hands, trying to fight back whatever was threatening to come out.

Time was ticking. He continued to speak "Um, I have something for you." Clay reached into his pocket, holding out his hand in a fist in front of George. He opened his hand, revealing two beautiful silver rings. One had a deep, dark, shiny emerald colored crystal in the center, and the other had an embellished, bright, sparkling blue.

"Remember when we went to the market? I saw these together and I thought I'd get one for you." He took George's right hand and put on the vivid blue ring on his pointer finger. Clay then put his ring on his finger, "I hope you like it."

George looked at the ring. His hands started to tremble. It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for him. He couldn't fight it back anymore. Tears welled up in his eyes, falling down his face. He looked Clay in his eyes and hugged him tightly, crying. He felt him wrap his arms around him.

"Thank y-you." George whispered. Clay hugged him tight.

"You're welcome." He heard Clay sniffle.

"Can you make me another promise?" George pulled away for a second, "Can you promise to visit me soon?" Tears carefully traveled down his face.

"Yes, I promise."

They embraced each other again. An announcement reminding them about George's flight forced them to let go.

"I have to go now." George painfully said.

"Text me when you land. Okay?"

"I will," George smiled.

"And remember, if you ever need anything, no matter what it is, I'll be here for you." Clay wiped his tears from his soft cheeks, "Stop crying, you have a plane to catch."

George laughed "Okay, goodbye."

"Bye." Clay smiled.

George picked up his bags and walked through the gate, as he walked through the hallway, he turned around. He saw Clay standing there, he saw him wave goodbye, and so did George. He painfully turned back around, walking down the long hallway.

As empty he thought he'd feel. He was happy.

He looked down at his ring. A single tear traveled down his face.

_I don't know what it is about you, but I care about you._

_All I can say is thank you._

_Please don't ever leave me._


	20. Lonley

Three months have passed since he last saw him. The air became cooler, the trees slightly changed into warmer, orangey colors with the changing seasons. It was mid-September, everything went back to normal; just how things were, well, except their relationship.

Their relationship continued as a platonic one, but his feelings were still there. They were stronger than ever, never leaving his mind. He spent a couple of nights crying; wishing he was besides him. Sometimes he found it ridiculous how he spent so much time crying over a boy, it was like being a middle-schooler all over again. But there was nothing he could do, it was up to George to see that he loved him, he's tried everything, hoping he could see. But the risk was greater than the benefit; a sick feeling held him back from confessing his love.

There were two possible outcomes:

He confesses his love to George, and they end up together forever.

Or,

He confesses his love to George, gets rejected and forever ruins their relationship.

The first option seems like a fantasy, an impossible fairytale; the one he always dreamed of. The second option seemed too realistic, the most likely outcome of the two, the most painful one. Clay imagined the infinite amount of possible scenarios and outcomes of their future, and every time he did; it always came out they same way.

_Together forever._

Clay looked down at his ring. It glistened in the sunlight. The image of George's teary face was heart wrenching, always stabbing at his heart.

_What was he thinking?_

_Why was he so emotional?_

_Does ... he have feelings for me?_

_No, there's no way_.

Clay stared at the ceiling. His apartment only grew more cold, missing it's final piece to the puzzle. The feeling of loneliness became too familiar after each passing day.

He let out a sigh. Their uploading schedule returned back to normal, releasing a video every week or so. His voice was so charismatic, so bright. George never failed to make him laugh. He couldn't help but notice that George had two different persona's; two versions of himself. He was used to George appearing so happy and excited, their calls never signaled any reason to be worried about anything.

But something was wrong, seriously wrong.

_Those nightmares, what are they about?_

_What's bothering him so much?_

It wasn't his place to ask or know. Or is it? They've been best friends for so many years; wouldn't George be comfortable enough to tell him? To take that next step to become even closer than before? Clay turned to his side, laying on his bed.

Both of their channels have been growing steadily, and more attention has been shining on George; he couldn't help but feel more happy for him. He wondered how he was taking everything in. Although, some distance has been pushing them apart, well of course physically, but connectively. George took too long to respond, longer than Clay felt comfortable with. He didn't want to become a bug, a pest of some kind. Asking didn't help, it achieved nothing, George always hit him with the "I'm okay, There's nothing to worry about, Sorry I was sleeping."

All he wants to do it fix him, love him, hold him tight, be his world. But something was in the way, and Clay was deemed to get through it, even if it would hurt.

He remembers when they first met, exchanging their skype usernames on that old, outdated Minecraft server chat. Because of George, he experienced so much happiness and joy, but it isn't the same anymore, everything feels different. Sometimes he wished he could go back in time, when they were children and nothing else in the world mattered, just playing Minecraft.

He became fidgety, tapping his fingers on the bed.

_Should I call him?_

He took out his phone and called George. The taunting ringing went on for a couple of seconds, and a couple more.

_Please pick up, I miss you._

The ringing stopped.

"Hello?" His sweet, cute voice traveled in his ears.

"Hey! What's up?" Clay's face lit up.

"Nothing really, just tired."

_Tired? God, I wish I could cuddle you right now._

"Yeah, I was gonna get to editing the video we did the other day, so, how was your day?" Clay asked.

_Fuck, that's so cheesy_

"Oh, uh, It was okay, I didn't do much. You?" His sweet voice was enough to make him blush.

"Honestly same, I don't know, it's been boring lately," Clay laughed, "I wish I had something else to do."

Clay has been dying at the thought of visiting George. He kept replaying what he said right before he boarded the plane;

_"Can you promise to visit me soon?"_

How much time did "soon" mean? A couple of weeks? Months? A year? Clay didn't want to pressure George into having him visit. Although, basing off this on how he's been acting, he needed space. But his tears, his voice, what does it all mean? Maybe George was waiting for him to say something about it, or, maybe he should wait for George to bring it up.

_Fuck._

_Not today, maybe another day._

George chuckled, "Me too, uh, Nick and I recorded a video the other day so I'm editing that right now actually."

"Wow, without me?!" Clay laughed.

"Yeah sorry," George laughed along with him, "I was planning on streaming later, you could join if you want too."

Clay smiled, "Yeah! Just text me when!"

"Sounds good, well I'm gonna try to get some work done, I'll message you later," George said.

"Okay, bye."

"Bye." He heard George hang up the phone.

Clay got up from his bed and headed downstairs to his kitchen. He was greeted by his cat, patches. She crawled over to his feet, purring. He kneeled down, petting her.

"I'm glad I have you, you must be hungry."

He walked over to the cabinets, unveiling the cat food. He poured the food into her colorful bowl, she thanked him by meowing. Clay smiled.

Now thinking about it, he was hungry himself. He opened his fridge, revealing a variety of newly stocked ingredients. Clay let out a sigh.

_Ugh, I don't wanna cook. Fuck it, I'll order McDonalds._

He took out his phone and opened the food delivery app. He placed his order, now he just has to wait.

Each day felt like it got slower, each second on the clock ticked slower than the one before it. Maybe he should just take the bullet, suffer the possible pain of asking to visit him. It's such a simple question; yet so terrifying.

What's the worst that could happen? If George said no, he's just busy - it's not that deep. And if he says yes, well, that's exactly what he wants. He wondered what he does all day, what we eats, what he wears, what he thinks about. He wondered if George ever thought about him, and if he did; what would he think about?

If anything, he hoped that George was feeling better. There is something deep inside him that is clawing away at him, making him suffer. Not knowing what it was scared Clay, it was truly horrifying. Seeing him tremble, shake and cry in his sleep even made _him_ nervous. He couldn't help but feel disappointed in himself.

They've been best friends since they were kids. And now, George is starting to become a stranger. As much as thought he knew George, he felt like he knew nothing about him.

_What is it?_

_A medical condition?_

_Health problems?_

_... Trauma?_

Clay felt sick to his stomach. He let out a sigh.

_What's wrong with you? I want to fix you. I want to love you._

He looked at his phone, staring at pictures of George edited by fans. He was perfect, there wasn't one flaw, not one imperfection. His beaming eyes, to his pale skin, all the way down to his toes; not one flaw. It amazed him how a single human being could be so perfect. The fact that we was his best friend proved that the universe wanted to make Clay suffer. It was a never ending game.

A knock on the door startled him.

_Oh, my food must be here._

He opened the front door, revealing the McDonalds bag placed on the porch. He picked up the bag and went into the kitchen, opening it and began eating his food.

Clay couldn't wait to stream with George. Spending any time with him was always his favorite part of the day, it really kept him going. After eating, he cleaned up and headed into his room. As he sat down, his phone went off a couple times. 

**Georgie**

Hey

I just started the stream, you can join now if you want 

Clay smiled.   
  


**Clay**

Alrigghttttttt   
  
  


He ran to his computer, sat down on his chair and booted up twitch and Minecraft. The excitement to play with George never went away, especially when it was George who was the person to ask.

He joined the call and joined the stream. And there it was, his captivating, happy, smiling face; his voice matched the rest his beaming energy. Everyday he wished he could love him.

_This is torture._

As expected, Nick joined the stream as well. They played on their survival world, arguing with each other while in the nether, then they moved over to hypixel, playing some of their mini-games. Clay caught himself distracted by George's voice, even the chat called him out on it.

_"lmao this man is on drugs. DREAMS TOTALLY BLUSHING RN. simp simp simp."_ Clay laughed.

They continued to stream for a couple of hours, switching on and off between their Minecraft worlds and servers. Soon enough, George was getting tired, and eventually finished up. Everyone said their goodbyes to the viewers and shut of the stream. Nick left the discord call, complaining something about having to take the garbage out. Clay and George were the lasts one in the call.

"I think I'm gonna go now," George sleepily said.

"Wait!" Clay exclaimed, "Um, I wanna ask, or, bring something up." He suddenly became nervous, shaking his leg.

"Yeah?" George asked.

"So, remember before you left? Like, to board the plane? You uh, asked me to visit you soon," He paused, "And since it's been a couple of months now, I was wondering if you wanted me to come visit you." He prepared for impact, waiting for him to respond.

"Oh."

_Huh? What?_

"Y-yes, yes, of course you can come! How soon can you fly over here?" George asked.

_Oh my god._ He felt his heart beat faster, excitement rushed through his veins.

"Oh my gosh, literally tomorrow I don't care I just miss you so-" He stopped midsentence, his entire face turned red, his heart viciously beat even harder. He blankly stared at his computer screen.

_What the fuck-_

"Aw, I miss you too. Uh, you don't have to do that to yourself, that's a little too soon. When did you want to come?"

_"I miss you too."_ His heart could explode.

Clay forced out a laugh, "Yeah I was kidding. Um, next week? Is that okay with you? Is that too soon?"

"Yeah! Sounds good to me." George sounded happy.

"Uh, okay! Well, it's probably late over there now. I'll text you to keep you updated then." Clay said.

"Okay, goodnight."

"Bye."

Clay left the call, then closing discord. He sat in his chair, looking at his computers home screen. Thousands of emotions rushed through his body.

_Holy shit, I'm gonna see him again._

He wondered what they were going to do, what they were going to talk about. What does his place look like? What does his room look like in person? He wondered if they were going to cuddle like they did when they were on vacation.

_I wonder what's going to happen._


	21. Empty

Content Warning: Mature sexual content   
___________________________________

Everything seemed to be on track. George uploaded each video he had planned out, he stayed on schedule with his twitch streams; going back to how it was before. Ever since the trip, he felt like something was missing, he'd search his entire house, but it wasn't anything physical, it was something inside him. He was used to being alone, it was his preferred way of living. There was no expectation, no rules, no worrying. There wasn't one person watching him; he was able to keep everything to himself.

But now everything is different. Everything that he was used to has changed, and for some reason it didn't make him feel as comfortable as before. His apartment echoed with each step he took on the wooded floors. It was a modest place, not too big, but not too small to cause some claustrophobia; one bathroom, two bedrooms, nothing too complicated. His apartment laid near a quiet neighborhood, lacking in a bustling population. It was all convenient, it was a couple towns over from his birthplace, away from his childhood.

Everyday repeated itself, they exact day from the previous one. The sun rose and set, followed by the moon copying it's exact movements.

For a couple of months, George wondered why he felt so empty. He couldn't stop thinking about Clay. As weird as it felt, he couldn't stop himself, it was one of the few things that made him felt, good? The way Clay held him made him feel warm inside, he yearned to feel his warmth on more time. And now, in a week, he was going to see him again.

A sudden wave of happiness suddenly came over him. His heart skipped a beat every time he'd think of him. Clay was the first person to ever show him so much affection and care, George even had to Google what the words "affection" and "care" meant, and Clay seemed to fit those definitions to an extent. Everyone around him seemed to have friends, knowing how to manage those relationships. But now the idea of friendships was constantly changing.

He knew that friends are supposed to share things in common, hang out and support each other. But, are they supposed to hold each other and sleep together? Maybe it wasn't too uncommon, maybe it was Clay's way of being his friend. Well, he feels comfortable around Clay and he helped him sleep at night - there wasn't anything wrong with that.

George laid on the couch, going through the channels on his tv. He tried to fill his day with something to watch; maybe that'd help with his constant boredom. He quickly flipped through the channels, not giving it much thought. His finger pressed the button until he suddenly stopped.

He stared at the TV wide-eyed. Moaning sounded through the speakers. A couple on the screen were groping each other, kissing each other all over. The man grabbed the woman's breast, nearing his mouth towards it. George's face turned red, quickly shutting off the tv.

He looked at the black screen.

It was something that he was lacking. Strangely enough, he didn't crave for sexual satisfaction, it was something that didn't seem necessary. Although, was it bad to think about? Well, he didn't want to think about his time with Alex, it was off putting.

He unknowingly thought back to the time they went swimming in the ocean. The image of Clay's wet biceps, tender pec's and thighs was glued inside of his brain. Even better, the sensation of his soft skin in his hands sent chills throughout his body. He wished he could feel his arms right about now. George felt himself grow hard.

_Wait, this is wrong._

His entire face became flushed, heating up from the inside.

_Well, maybe it's not that bad._

He wondered how ... big he was. He was taller than him, so it must be something to see. George slowly pulled off his shorts, then finally feeling himself. He thought about all the things Clay could possibly do to him; especially how it would feel inside. George imagined Clay moaning in his ears, kissing him all the way from his neck down to his legs, and maybe somewhere else. He moved his hand faster up and down as he pictured Clay pining him down with his hands, whispering into his ear, entering inside him.

He imagined what it would feel like; it must be something like ecstasy. But only thing he could feel is his hand moving up and down. He held his shirt up by his teeth, grunting as he could feel it coming. He moved it faster and faster, quietly moaning in the silence. His heart beat faster, small sweat droplets fell from his forehead, he kept going until-

"F-fuck."

George's fluids spewed all over, landing onto his chest, slowly running all the way down. He laid on the couch for a couple of seconds, panting form the rush.

He got up from the couch and quickly ran to the shower, taking his clothes off. The water running from the shower head was warm to the touch. As he stepped in, he felt the water travel down his body. And suddenly, the feeling of shame rapidly infested his entire body.

_What the fuck._

The intense feeling of shame was followed by disgust. He ran his fingers through his hair. His face grew red in embarrassment.

_Why did I do that?_

He shut his eyes, trying to forget what he just did. Clay was his friend, someone who he cared about. Thinking about him in such a weird manner wasn't right; it was so wrong. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever imagine Clay like that.

_What the fuck is wrong with me? He's just a friend, and nothing more._

He desperately tried to reassure himself. It was just driven by lust, just impure thoughts. Maybe sex _was_ something he was lacking. He just couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else besides-

_Shit, that isn't helping. Just forget it._

George can't be alone, everyone thinks about their friends in that way, right? Maybe it'd be better if he just forgot about it, as if it never happened; suppress that thought like he does with every other feeling.

George continued to scrub his body, hoping it would wash away all the shame. He tried to keep his head empty for the rest of the shower.

After finishing up, he dried himself off and changed into a fresh set of clothes in his room. George plopped onto his bed, he was too lazy to do anything; he was too busy thinking about Clay and his visit soon; and what he did on the couch. Brushing that off, he became slightly nervous, what should they do? Should he plan something out? Should he look up things to do? Maybe he should ask.

George had been hoping to talk to Clay, about anything, but he didn't want to bother him. Sending a text didn't seem like a bad thing to do.  
  
  


**George**

Hey did you figure out your plane ticket situation? Do you need help?  
  
  


He shut off his phone, walking to his desktop, sitting down in his chair. He put on his head set with getting some work done on his future videos in mind. About half an hour went by until he finally received a notification from his phone. He opened his phone to see what it was.   
  
  


**Clay**

Hiiiii yes I did actually. Im kinda bored right now, what are you doing?  
  
  


For some reason his heart beat a little faster.   
  
  


**George**

Nice, I'm just working on some stuff why?  
  
  


It only took a couple of seconds for Clay to respond.   
  
  


**Clay**

Idk lets talk about what were gonna do

Get on discord  
  
  


George opened up Discord only to see Clay already on the call. George smiled.

"Hello."

"Hi!" Clay shouted. George flinched at the excitement in his voice. As loud as he was, it made him happy. He pictured Clay smiling behind the screen.

"How's it going?" George asked.

"Good! How're you?" Clay playfully reiterated the question.

"I'm alright. So, you got your flight booked? When are you coming?"

"Yeah! So, I did it last night and," He paused for a couple of seconds, "I- uh," Clay nervously chuckled, "My flight lands this Friday."

George snatched his phone and looked at the date. Today was Wednesday.

_Two days?_ He felt his stomach tingle.

"O-Oh, in two days?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm sorry! I should've told you, but when I booked it you would've been sleeping. I couldn't wait that much longer I'm too excited. If that's too soon I can reschedule it." Clay sped through his words. It was charming to see him so, worried. George smiled.

"No that's okay! I just have to plan stuff out then. Oh, how long are you staying?" George asked.

There was a pause, "Shit," he paused again, "I bought a one way ticket instead of a round trip," Clay groaned, "Maybe I can change it or buy another one. Whatever, I'll figure it out. How long do you want me to stay?"

_Forever._

"I mean honestly, how long as you want. I can buy your ticket back when you want to leave." George tried to sound as casual as possible, not trying to sound desperate.

"Oh, well, I don't mind that. I just really want to see the UK, I've never been there before." Clay said.

"I mean, you can stay here as long as you want, we can do whatever we want."

"Alright. Sounds cool!" Clay brought back his cheerful voice.

"Yeah," George smiled. Silence ensued.

"So I was gonna stream right now, did you want to join?" Clay asked.

"Sure!"

Both sent out a tweet about the stream, and to no surprise, the second they started their streams, thousands of people poured in wanting to watch. George always wondered what made people want to watch his content, or even care about him in the slightest.

In the grand scheme of things, George felt like he wasn't special, nothing separated him from the average person. All his life he was an outcast, an outlier in the population line. Everyone had friends, lovers and relationships, and watching that as he grew up always looked like an unachievable dream. Nothing could've confused him more; he felt like a needle in a haystack, being unable to blend in with everyone else, but at the same time be so alone, having no one. Not one person.

Now he looks at his computer screen, 40, 50, 60 thousand people watching him play Minecraft with his friend. Although, maybe it was too good to be true. George couldn't have done it alone, there was no way. Clay was the backbone; George knew the only reason why he was even remotely successful was because of Clay. Of course he was grateful, but it wasn't surprising. If George had never met Clay and uploaded his own content - no one would watch. No one would care; just like he was used to.

But then there was Clay. Each passing day he became an even more confusing person in his life. He wanted to unravel him and unveil his thoughts. What does he mean to Clay?

_Am I important to him?_

He thought about the nights they spent together, crying himself to sleep besides him. Was there anyone else who would do that?

George numbed himself. He was ready at any given moment to expect their separation. He wouldn't be surprised if Clay suddenly forgot about him, and moved on to the next person to call his "friend." As warm, caring, and comfortable he was; that was always a possibility - George was way used to it. It was a scary thought to feel so connected to Clay, because the thought of losing him was unimaginable. There was something different about him; but George didn't know what exactly it was.

After hours of playing, laughing, and interacting with the viewers, both of them ended their twitch streams. George waved goodbye as he turned it off.

"I'm gonna go now, I have to pack and get ready for Friday."

"Okay, text me if anything comes up." George reassured Clay.

"Byeee!"

"Bye." George smiled. Clay left the call.

It was getting late at this point. Checking the time read 11:49 PM. George headed into the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal. He looked around his apartment. It was moderately decorated, always spotless. Any sign of a mess unhinged him. George didn't want to reflect any habits or traits that reflected of, _that man._ If there was any way he was going to turn out; it would never become similar to him.

Never.

George took a sharp breath in.

Finishing his cereal, he headed off into his room. He brushed his teeth and washed his face. He tried to distract himself.

_Two days._

He couldn't wait to see his face, hug him, feel his presence.

_I can't wait to see you._


	22. Stuck

Content Warning: Abuse, physical harm  
___________________________________

_He couldn't sleep. The moon sat high in the sky, it's illuminating rays of light crept through the cracked, broken window. The time was unknown, but by looking at the moon and the dark houses surrounding the quiet neighborhood; the hour was deep into the night. There was some relief in his day. Summer finally came around, giving him the chance to be alone for most the time. The feeling of being alienated wasn't was profound as it was during the school year._

_George looked out the window. The street was dimly lit by the flickering, orange tinted street lights. It was tempting. What if he just got up, and ran away? Although the day's grew warmer, and the air became lighter, it didn't feel that way. The air in the house was always heavy, reeking of cigarettes and alcohol. The house was a dirty mess, never taken care of. He was always constantly walking on thin ice, trying not to fall into the freezing water and into the hands of his father._

_He looked at his arms. The bruising was going away slowly, the same with his pale legs. He moved his hand to his face, feeling his left eye, the pain wasn't as strong, a sign of healing. Over some time, George learned his habits; when he slept, when we wakes, when he comes home from work, and when he returns. When he enters the house, George wasn't allowed to speak. Whenever he opens his mouth, he was only greeted by physical lashings._

_He always wondered what made him so angry, so full of hate. Was it something George did? He thought about writing an apology letter, apologizing for being a horrible son; even if he considered him his son, but that'd itself would probably make him upset._

_Whenever George did have the chance to go to the park, there was always a mother and her two children playing._

_What was that feeling like? What could he do to experience that? He had nothing to lose._

_He curled up in his creaking bed, imagining to be somewhere else; maybe under a house with his mother._

_Steps suddenly pulsed throughout the hallway right outside his door._

_What, what is he doing?_

_George's stomach dropped. He quickly got under the sheets and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. The heavy footsteps became louder, making the floor squeak. Eventually, the door knob slowly turned, opening the door. It's creaking filled the silence. George kept his eyes shut, not even daring to open them at any point. He heard the man walk up to his bed, hovering over him._

_The man then climbed on top of George's fragile body. His heart beat faster, making his chest hurt in fear. He didn't know what he was doing, he just kept his eyes shut, hoping he would go away._

_The man sighed. He stayed quiet, pretending to be asleep until he felt the man place something over his entire face. George opened his eyes, but he couldn't see anything, his entire field of view was pitch black._

_"Dad?" George could barley speak, nothing but a muffle came out of his mouth. The covering was soft, he realized it was pillow. The force became stronger, tightening around his face._

_His heart beat even faster, his body trembling. George took a deep breath but no air came in. His eyes widened._

_I can't breathe._

_"Dad?!" Again, nothing but a muffle came out. The man's force became even stronger. He pushed down harder, making George's neck hurt._

_George tried to take another breath in, but he could only feel the pillow being shoved into his mouth. There's was no air, everything became hot, he felt his lungs being filled with heat. He could hear the man's breathing become heavier._

_George tried to push the man away with his weak arms. Only until now he realized how serious the situation became._

_He's trying to kill me._

_He clawed at the man's face, trying to get him away. George with all of his power tried to get him off of him. He swung his legs around, viciously kicking in the air. He kept struggling and grunting and the pillow became tighter on his face and neck. His arms weren't doing anything, he hit the man in the face over and over again, but he didn't budge._

_George began sobbing, then screaming in hysterics. He could only feel tears in his eyes, somehow making the darkness even harder to see._

_He continued to struggle, fighting for his life. He tried to push the man off him, but it didn't work._

_I can't breathe. I can't feel anything._

_He pulled on the man's hair, George's grasp slowly weakening._

_There was no air left, he was breathing in nothing. George kept fighting, but he felt his life slipping away with each breath._

_"GOD DAMNIT JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY!" The man screamed._

_George closed his eyes, accepting what was going to happen._

_The man suddenly took the pillow off of his face. George quickly opened his eyes, gasping for air. He could only take a couple breathes until he started sobbing again. George's face and eyes were entirely red, covered in sweat. Tears and saliva fell down his beaten face._

_They made eye contact. The man's eyes were filled with hatred. This was a side he's never seen from him before._

_George continued to cry, begging for forgiveness with his eyes._

_"W-why?" George sobbed._

_The man looked into his eyes for a couple more seconds before climbing off the bed and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him._

_George squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth, trying to hold in his crying._

_Mom, please save me._

_Please get me out of here._

_Please._   
  
  


George quickly got up, opening his eyes. He gasped for air, holding his neck with his hands. He got up from his bed and ran to the toilet, throwing up inside.

He closed his eyes, quietly sobbing while holding onto the toilet seat. He slowly breathed in and out, trying to forget.

_Just forget._

_It was just a dream._

_Just forget._

He flushed the toilet. George got up and stood in front of the mirror. They were getting worse, becoming more and more real. At this point he couldn't tell what was the past, and what was the present; it was all becoming a mushed up ball of nightmares mixed in with the progressive future. It was unescapable, he was in a hole that was digging itself deeper and deeper.

He brushed his teeth and freshened up, trying to wash away his thoughts. Although something else wasn't sitting right with George. He quickly ran to his night stand, grabbing his phone and turning it on. There was multiple messages left from Clay sent hours apart from one another.   
  
  


_Shit._   
  
  


**Clay**

Heyyy im at the airport right now my flight leaves soon

Hello? Still sleeping sleepy head?

Dont worry about me take as much time you need, get some sleep

I land maybe in an hour just letting you know. I cant wait to see you :)  
  
  


George checked the time, it was 9:17 AM, Clay lands in an hour. He sat down on his bed, letting out a sigh. He should be rushing to get ready, but Clay's words reassured him. He could already feel his presence. George went into the living room, then the kitchen, and into the guest bedroom; everything was ready and clean. He looked in the guest room. George hoped that there was going to be no need for it, there was enough room for the both of them in his own bed. 

He fixed himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen. Nerves settled in the stomach, he felt like he was meeting him for the first time, but all he wanted was to see him again, feel his warmth. George finished his cereal and put it in the sink.

He put on a fresh set of clothes; an oversized dark navy sweater and jeans. George looked around, double checking everything, and headed outside to his car. He set the directions to the airport on his phone and carefully pulled out of the driveway into the empty street.

Now the roles switched; George was the one who was driving around and hosting - it made him nervous over anything. George didn't have Clay's personality. He wasn't able to be "the life of the party," connect with people and keep everything going. George felt like he was slowly losing his grip of reality. There was a fantasy world he wanted to live in, where everything was perfect, but he didn't know where to go, or how to get there.

Sooner or later he arrived at the airport. It wasn't as busy as he thought, which reassured him. George pulled into the large parking lot and walked towards the building. The automatic doors swung open, letting a gust of wind inside. He didn't know where he was, and Clay hadn't messaged him yet. 

**George**

I'm here. Did you land yet?

The message was sent through. George sat at a nearby bench, waiting for him to respond. He waited and waited, bouncing his leg. About ten minutes went by, and there was no response. He let out a sigh.

_He probably forgot about me._

Ringing from his phone made him jump. It was from Clay. He answered and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hey! I'm here! Sorry I had no service. Where are you? I can come meet you." Clay exclaimed.

"Oh, no that's okay. Just stay where you are, what gate are coming from?" George asked.

"Gate C3."

"Okay I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye!"

"Bye-bye." George hung up the call. He couldn't help but smile.

George looked up at the signs, trying to figure out where to go. He got up and started walked towards the gate. With each step, he became more and more nervous. A new butterfly appeared in his stomach, flying around, causing him to tingle all over. He looked up at the electronic signs. An arrow pointed to the left, "Gate C3."

He walked down a large hallway, nearing the gate. He kept walking, looking out the ginormous, picture, perfect windows. His heart rate increased, pumping through his veins.

George walked and saw the gate. He saw a tall, dirty-blonde haired man in the distance looking down at his phone.

_Clay_.

George smiled. It was him, it was really him. He picked up his pace, nearly running towards him. And eventually, he was in front of him.

"Hey."

Clay looked up, startled, his eyes widened, "George!"

Clay tightly hugged him, holding him tight. George held him back, digging his face into his chest. A burst of happiness, comfort and butterflies traveled throughout his entire body. George closed his eyes momentarily; it was everything that he was missing - his warmth, smell, his sweet voice. He never wanted to let go.

"It's so nice to see you again!" He held him tighter, he couldn't contain himself. George let go, looking up at his beautiful eyes.

"Nice to see you too." He smiled. George could feel his face heating up, "How was your flight? Was it okay?"

"Yeah it was fine! First class is pretty nice." Clay smiled.

"First class? How much money did you spend? I can help pay you that-"

"No! It's fine, don't worry about it!" he paused, "Wanna get going?" Clay asked.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, we can go."

George helped Clay with his bags, carrying one with his arm. The path back was easy. They exited the airport and finally arrived at George's car. He put Clay's luggage in the back of the car.

They climbed inside and buckled themselves in. George easily left the parking lot and entered into the street, heading back to his apartment.

"How've you been?" Clay asked. George thought about it. It was a simple question, but so complex. He wanted to pour out the truth, tell him what he's been hiding; but it wasn't the time.

"I've been good, anything new with you?" George asked.

"Not really, same old same old," Clay looked out the window, "Everything is so much prettier here. I love it."

George smiled, "We're gonna go back to my place, if you wanted to, we can go out and eat. But if you're too tired we can just stay there and you can unpack and stuff."

"Yeah I'm actually pretty hungry, we can just leave my stuff there and go." Clay said.

"Okay, sure."

The car ride was about an hour. It was quiet, the only noise filling the silence was the tires running on the bumpy road.

"So, uh, did have anything in mind that you wanted to do?" George asked. There was no response. A couple more seconds went by of pure silence. George turned his head to look at Clay. He nodded off, quietly sleeping. George smiled.

Clay's hand laid by his leg. George looked at it. He was wearing the ring that he got at the market. For some reason George's heart became heavy. Maybe he should've worn his ring, but, he was too afraid he was going to lose it - he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he ever lost it. It was too precious.

George softly placed his hand on Clay's. Moments like this is what he cherished the most.

He held his hand, holding it softly.

_I've missed you._


	23. Healing

The car ride was a little bumpy, but not too rowdy to wake him up. The motion turned to the right, then stopping. The sound of the engine turned off, allowing silence to fill the car. Clay felt a tap on his left shoulder. A muted word traveled in his ear, then another. A hand held his shoulder, being softly shaken.

"Clay, wake up." George whispered.

He slowly opened his eyes, looking out the window. He quickly shifted to look at George. His beautiful, porcelain face looked at him. Clay smiled.

"O-Oh sorry, I feel asleep." Clay felt his cheeks blush.

George smiled back, "It's okay, we can go inside, we're here."

Clay opened the car door, stepping onto the ground. The cool breezed caressed his face. He looked around, taking in the setting. He was finally here, in the United Kingdom; it was all the more special because he was here for the first time, with the one he loves. It made him nervous, everyday he wanted to spill it all out on the table, but the risk was too high; maybe it was better to hold in in - forever.

The neighborhood facing the small apartment complex was quaint, surrounded by tall trees moving in the wind. For some reason it was exactly where he thought George would live. The apartment complex was small, not many cars were in the parking lot. He heard the car trunk pop open.

"Oh, I can take this one." Clay took the suitcase from the back. George took duffle bag. He closed the trunk shut and locked the car. Clay followed George from behind as they walked up the stairs to the second floor to his apartment. George unlocked the door and opened it to let them both inside. Clay felt his heartbeat speed up. He was letting him into his home; where he spends everyday at. It felt like the next imaginary step to their relationship.

They walked inside and stood in the living area. Clay looked around. Everything was so, cute. He smiled. Inside smelled nice too, he noticed some candles lit on the coffee table. Shyness came over Clay, he stood with George, waiting for someone to speak.

"Uh, welcome," George paused, "So, um, there's a guest room over here. You can stay there." George stepped in front of him, towards the guest room.

He had to make a move. This was his only chance. He grabbed George by the wrist. George quickly turned around, startled.

"Can I stay with you? In your room? Please?" Clay rushed through his words, nervously.

_Fuck, he looks so hesitant._

"You don't have to," he awkwardly paused, "Sorry, I'll just take the room." His whole face was red.

"Yeah. You can stay with me." Both of their faces were entirely red, avoiding eye contact, "My room is over here."

_Holy shit, he said yes._ His heart momentarily relaxed.

George led him to his room. Clay's hands became sweaty, nerves settled in his stomach.

_I can't believe I'm in his room._

He looked around, taking it all in again. His bed looked so cozy, several blankets laid on top of each other, accompanied by many pillows against the bed frame. On the other side of the room was where he streamed, his PC setup.

_This_ is where they talked. _This_ is where they had so many conversations about their lives. _This_ is where he got to know George.

"I have some room in my closet if you want to put your stuff in there. Make yourself comfortable."

"Okay, thanks." Clay smiled, "Um, is it okay if I take a nap? I'm actually really tired." Clay laughed. It was until now he realized how exhausted he was from his flight.

"Sure! Go ahead. I was gonna go get food in the mean time, you're probably hungry." George said.

"Get whatever you want, I'm not picky."

"Okay! Sounds good, I'll be back soon, feel free to look around."

"Okay, bye!" Clay exclaimed.

"Bye." George shut the door and left.

Clay was left standing in George's room, all by himself. He couldn't stop himself blushing. It was like being invited over to your high school crushes house - if you even had the chance.

After hearing the car pull of out the lot, Clay took the initiative to look around. I mean, George _did_ say to look around.

Everything was moderately decorated; creating a cozy atmosphere. Sometimes he liked to think what they would do if they became boyfriends; where would they live? Here? Clay's apartment? It was just a silly thought.

He walked around the kitchen, admiring the immaculate tidiness. He walked around the counter, until something caught his eye. He looked down into the trash can.

_Wrappers? Candy wrappers?_

It was full of many colorful candy wrappers. Although, it was a lot. Almost too many? It looked like enough for a group of people to eat.

_I shouldn't judge, I mean, I do eat a lot._ Clay felt his belly, _I should work out more._

_I guess he likes sweets._ An idea popped in his head. Clay smiled.

His tiredness soon became prevalent; becoming the only thing he can focus on. The only thing he could see was George's bed. Clay returned to the room. He stripped off his clothes, putting on a pair of shorts from his luggage. He crawled into the bed, feeling the blanket flow between his fingertips. Clay wrapped himself under the blankets, snuggling close with the pillows. It was perfect; the soft fabric wrapped his body, it even smelled like him. Electricity traveled everywhere - the only thing that was missing was George.

_George._

He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. His eyes shut, drifting off into sleep.  
  
  
  


He held onto something tight, like a teddy bear. It was warm, comforting, he didn't want to let go. Clay brought it even closer to his body, squeezing it with his arms. He put his leg on top, completely toppling it over at his point.

Clay drowsily opened his eyes. It wasn't a teddy bear. It was, it was ...

_George?_

George was sound asleep, right under Clay's body. His cheeks glowed a warm pink.

Clay's entire face turned red, heating up.

_Oh my god._

He was like an angel, perfect in every way. Their faces were so close, their lips not too far apart. Clay looked down. His hips were pressing right against George's. Then he realized where his hand was. It was slipped under George's shirt, on his bare stomach.

He was frozen in place, paralyzed. His eyes widened as he felt George shifting in place. He opened his eyes, looking at each other.

"Hey." George said in his adorable groggy voice.

"Oh, um, hi." Clays stomach suddenly dropped to the floor.

_I'm hard._

Clay backed away flustered, trying to seem as casual as possible, "I-I'm sorry, I was too, uh, close to you, I didn't mean to-, Sorry." Clay forced out a laugh.

"Uh, you're okay." George awkwardly smiled.

They both stammered in the silence.

"Oh! The food! It's probably cold by now. Sorry, I just saw you sleeping and I just, couldn't help myself." George said. Both of them didn't know what to do.

"That's okay, we can microwave it." Clay said, they both laughed.

"Okay." George smiled, "I'm gonna go in the kitchen."

"Sounds good!" He watched George leave the room.

_Fuck fuck fuck, please go away. Think think think._

_Stop being so stupid. Just calm down._

Clay managed to make it go away, thanks to Nick.

_Shit, what if he felt it? I mean, he'd say something? Right? Okay, just forget about it._

He jumped off the bed and headed into the kitchen. George was heating up the boxes of takeout in the microwave, taking out some plates and cups from the cabinets.

They sat on the counter, digging in, Clay took most of the food. He was hungrier more than anything. Although, George returned to his old habits; not eating, at all. He wondered if eating so much in front of him made him uncomfortable. But, Clay never knew when the best time it was too ask. Maybe not today.

"Did want to do anything else today? I don't know if you wanna stay in today. Your flight must've been long." George noted.

"Yeah I don't know what it is about airplanes, but they make me tired as hell. I can barley sleep on one. My brain is still trying to adjust, let's just stay in." Clay jokingly said. They both laughed.

"Okay." George smiled, "Oh! I got some pastries from a bakery not too far from here, it's in those bags. I have cocoa and coffee if you want any later."

"Sure! Sounds yummy." Clay said. Both smiled. They finished up eating their food, then cleaning and washing up the dishes. Clay took it upon himself to clean, dry the dishes and kitchen.

George started making the coffee, filling the air with it's alluring aroma.

This is what Clay has been wanting; time with George. They were in a relaxed setting, so maybe he was able to see a more revealing side of him, another glimpse inside of his soul. He was hoping George was making progress, becoming a better version of himself.

He was beautiful inside and out. He was a blooming flower, slowly showing it's bright, colorful shades of growth. Not every flower was perfect; some aren't taken care of, some forgotten, and some just take a little extra time than others to sprout. Among the millions of flowers in the vast, never ending sacred garden; George was the one Clay loved. The one he couldn't take his eyes off of. It's perfection was as true as it's heart was pure.

"I kinda just got whatever looked good, it's a lot, take whatever you want." George said as he brought the large, brown paper bags to the table. Clay looked inside, instantly hooked onto the magnificent, fresh smell. He took out some biscuits, taking a bite out of it's crunchy insides.

George brought two cups of coffee to the table, "We can watch a movie if you want," George suggested.

"Sure, why not."

Clay took the remote and browsed through the endless amount of movies on the tv. After a couple of minutes, they settled on a popular movie at the time. They sipped on their coffee and snacked on the pastries.

They watched the movie in mostly silence - the movie proved to be better than Clay thought. Once it finished, they cleaned up the mess.

"I'm gonna shower first, is that okay?" George asked.

"Yeah! Go ahead!" Clay reassured. George walked into his room, entering the bathroom. He heard the shower turn on, then the door shut. Clay walked into the room. He looked at the luggage on the floor.

_I should probably organize my stuff._

He walked over to the bags, folding and hanging his clothes into George's closet. Clay smiled; they're sharing a closet, it felt like he was moving in or something. He was able to get pretty much everything organized and out of the way. The bathroom door swung open, revealing George; he was wearing an oversized white t-shirt and black shorts. Everything he wore was astronomically cute.

"You can use the bathroom now, I'm done, you can use the towels." he said. George sounded happier than usual, which made Clay happy.

"Alright, I'll just shower now." Clay walked over to the closet, grabbing a fresh set of shorts. He stripped off his clothes down to his boxers. He wondered if he was looking, maybe staring. I mean, he wouldn't mind.

He headed into the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping inside. It was kind of exciting to be standing where George showers. But at the same time, thinking about it was weird.

_Please stop being creepy, be normal._

He hurried up, washing his body and everywhere else. Clay turned off the shower, drying himself off. He quickly slipped on his shorts and stepped outside. George was fast asleep, all bundled up under the blankets. Clay smiled ear to ear. He made sure to turn off the lights in the kitchen, hallway, and finally the room. He shut the door, almost creating a small universe just for the both of them.

He climbed into bed, wrapping himself in the blankets. Clay peacefully laid next to George; as much as he wanted to hold him, he didn't want to wake him up.

He closed his eyes, taking in the feeling, the warm tender feeling of finally being able to be with him again. 

_Take your time, you'll soon bloom into the most beautiful flower you can be._


	24. Dismay

The train zoomed across the clanky, metal rails, causing it to have a consistent bumpy ride. Trees and building tops swiped across Clay's view, making it hard to focus on anything. The sky was a bright blue with a few small clouds residing in the air. They were nearing their destination; London. George brought up the idea in the morning, surprising Clay with a day trip.

The view while the scenery slowly morphed into the city-life was beautiful to see. Although it was interesting to witness, the image of George's sleepy face in the morning was unforgettable. His messy hair, peaceful face, his pink cheeks and the way his collarbone peeked through the hem of his shirt all came together like a detailed oil painting.

It was a tedious game, like an unforgiving joke. Clay felt like a bunny with a carrot teased in its face, yearning to snatch a bite; but only for it to be taken away at the last second. As heart wrenching as everything felt, he was getting used to the feeling. George had fallen asleep on his left shoulder, eyes peacefully closed and his hands in his lap. A warm sensation suddenly engulfed his heart.

_The ring._

It was on his pointer finger, glistening in the bright sunlight.

_He cherishes it, he really does?_

Clay suddenly felt guilty, he previously put his ring away; he thought wearing it was sort of cringy. But now, it didn't seem as much. Maybe he should buy more things for him.

The train slowed down, entering into the station, being met by a large group of people waiting to board. He quickly nudged George's shoulder.

"Hey sleepy head, we're here." Clay whispered.

George fluttered his eyes open, being blinded by the bright sunlight, "Oh shit, let's go." He quickly stood up. Clay followed him from behind, leaving the train and soon navigating through the busy station. The air was cooler, slightly windy. Clay tried to stay as close as possible as they made sharp turns to make it into the city. After a couple of minutes, the sounds of many footsteps, bustling cars and the wind dancing between the trees became louder.

Soon enough, they were in the heart of the city. Glorious, tall, structured buildings surrounded them. Everything flowed together; the gothic themed architecture, the busy streets, intertwined by modern shops and buildings. The setting was beautiful, so much better than Florida. He took a couple moments to take it all in.

"Wow, I haven't been here in so long." George said.

"Really?" Clay turned his head.

"Yeah, years actually. Wanna get something to eat?"

"Sure!"

George grabbed Clay by the arm and suddenly jolted across the street. He gasped as they dodged the cars running down the busy street. His heart slowed down once they made it to the other side.

"You wanna warn me next time?" Clay was almost out of breath.

George laughed, "Sorry, you'll have to get used to that. Come on." George continued to walk down the street. Clay couldn't help but smile. He seems so much happier. He only wished he could stay this happy. They passed several shops until they arrived at a local, cute pub.

It was full of warm, rustic décor, decorated by yellow-tinted light bulbs. They walked up to the counter, ordering their food. George had to help Clay order his food, but eventually they figured it out. They sat down at a table, away from the rest of the people at the pub.

"London is so cool, I wanna stay here forever." Clay happily said.

"Yeah it's pretty cool I guess." George smiled.

"Not into big cities?"

"No, not really. But I thought it'd be fun to go out with you."

Clay smiled, trying to conceal his blush.

"So did you wanna check out some places here? There's some art museums we could go to, and we could also sight see if you want." George asked.

"I just honestly wanna walk around and take pictures, I can't get over how beautiful everything is. Maybe I'll post something on instagram." George looked at Clay concerned, "Oh! Yeah, we didn't tell them I'm here with you," Clay nervously laughed, "Um, yeah I guess I can't do that."

Not one person knew about them meeting up, not their fans, or their close friends. But it was a perfect scenario, he had him all to himself; no distractions, hopefully.

A worker brought their food to the table. As busy as the streets were from looking at the window, it wasn't that busy inside. Both of them enjoyed their food, taking in the setting.

Before coming all the way to the U.K., Clay had spent a lot of time thinking - as he usually does.

His relationship with George is the most confusing relationship he has with another human being. As much as he tried to get the ball rolling, nothing seemed to work; but it is rolling, or is it?

Clay spent countless nights tirelessly trying to dissect every night of the vacation like a surgeon. His tears, fragile voice, sharing the same bed, the promises. It was an impossible equation that Einstein couldn't even figure out. But on the last day, the airport. What was George so emotional about? It had to be something more than the simple concept of saying goodbye. There's something inside his heart locked away, but Clay was too busy aimlessly looking for the lost key.

After days of non stop thinking, Clay came to the realization that trying to force something like pushing a snowball down a mountain won't work. As much as it hurts, it was the best thing to do. Spending time with George is all he should focus on.

After finishing up their food they headed outside, being greeted by the chilly breeze. Cars, taxis and buses continued to rush down the large streets.

"Let's head down this way," George said, Clay followed as they started to walk. London was as gorgeous as he thought it was, like a postcard. Beautiful historic buildings, cathedrals, bridges, each piece of brick he saw looked like a puzzle piece that all fit together to the bigger picture. Street performers were at every corner, giving them something entertaining to watch.

Everything was so beautiful. More beautiful than he could imagine. Clay smiled; it seemed like a perfect city to live with George, to spend the rest of their lives together.

_What a crazy fantasy._

They walked beside each other, looking and periodically stopping to take pictures of the city. Their footsteps were synchronous with each step on the stone paths, heading towards an unknown destination. Clay would sparingly sneak a glance at George, just to see a glimpse of his face. As pretty as everything was that surrounded them, George was the most gorgeous thing he laid his eyes on.

They soon came across a popular shopping street. They slowly walked down the large street, looking at the expensive displays in the windows. A clothing store lit with warm lights caught Clay's attention.

_I've been needing a new coat._

"Hey, can we check this out?" George turned around.

He'd been looking at another shop, when Clay looked up, it was a local candy shop.

"Oh, uh, I was gonna go inside this other store," He seemed eager, "But, sure we can go-"

"No! That's fine, I won't take long, just text me when you're done."

"Okay, sounds good." They turned around. Clay entered the store, and was greeted by a nicely dressed man.

"Hello! Our store is having a 25 percent sale on all of our products! Do you need help finding anything?" He smiled, revealing his shiny, white teeth.

"Oh, I'm just browsing, thank you though." Clay smiled back.

"Alright, let me know if you need anything!"

"Thank you." Clay walked further into the store, looking around. He aimlessly walked around until he found the collection of men's jackets and coats. He touched the soft, luxurious fabric. He looked through the rack, wondering which one one he would look the best in.

_Maybe this one?_

He pulled out a dark blue coat, embellished with gold buttons all the way down.

_Would George like this?_

He looked around, looking at the many options. He spent another ten minutes wandering around contemplating if he should purchase something. He stared at the scarfs until he felt a sudden tight grip on his wrist. Clay quickly turned around startled.

"C-can we go?" It was George. It took a second before Clay realized he was crying. His eyes were red, tears effortlessly running down his face. George forced himself not to sob; keeping it all in. His heart dropped, scared.

"George? What's wrong? What happened?" Clay tried to keep his voice down. He felt George's grip become tighter.

"We need to go, now. Please." George shut his eyes, trying to hold everything in. Tears continued to run down his red cheeks.

"Y-yeah, yeah let's go." Clay held George by the hand as they left the store. George kept his head down as they walked down the streets. Clay's heart beat faster as they walked the long way back to the train station.

_What's going on? Why is he crying? What made him upset? It's all my fault, I shouldn't have left him alone. I'm a horrible friend. I have one job and it's to protect him, and I can't even do that._

Seeing George whimper could make him cry. He felt his throat swelling up from the inside; but he kept everything in. Clay wrapped his arm around George as they continued to walk back, not exchanging one word to each other.

Clay fumbled as he tried to navigate the complicated station, trying to find the right stop. Clay's hand became sweaty, nervously looking all around to make sure they were going the right way.

_Shit, where the fuck am I going._

Soon enough he found the right train, walking through the gates and onto the train. It was packed full, bustling with people. He felt George grip his hand tighter; he continued to look down. Clay found a spot in the back and brought themselves over, sitting down. George sat next to the window.

The train moved forward, heading to their destination. As loud as everything was, there was complete silence between the two. Clay didn't know what to say or what to do. You'd think being friends with him for so many years he'd know what to say; but he doesn't.

George's hands laid in his lap, tightly intertwined.

_Maybe I should try to talk to him when we get back._

George pulled into the apartment parking lot, shutting the car off. They both got out and headed upstairs, walking inside. Before Clay could even open his mouth, George ran to his room, slamming the door shut.

The loud noise echoed as he stood in the living room by himself. Clay let out a sigh.

_Should I leave him alone? Or should I talk to him?_

His stomach suddenly turned, becoming anxious. He walked to George's door, trying to hear inside. George's soft whimpers shattered his heart.

He can't do this anymore, he can't watch the man he loves being so broken.

He placed his hand on the door handle and opened the door. George turned his head and quickly wiped his tears away, trying to conceal the obvious. Clay walked inside and shut the door behind him. He climbed on the bed, sitting next to George.

"I'm sorry, just forget that happened. I'm sorry we had to go, I'm just overreacting that's all, we can back-" George stumbled over his words and Clay interrupted him.

"Stop. Please stop." Clay let out a heavy sigh, "You're not overreacting, nothing's wrong with you," he looked down at his hands, "George, I hate seeing you like this. I don't like it at all. Something's bothering you but I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. Remember, our promise?" He turned his head to look at George.

George tightly shut his eyes, becoming upset. He let out a sob, "Okay."

"What's wrong? You can tell me anything."

There was a long pause, their breathing filling the silent room. George took a deep breath, holding his hands together.

He quietly said, "I think I saw him."

Clay became confused, "Who?"

George gripped his hands even tighter, his breathing becoming shaky. He tried to hold it in but he couldn't anymore, George quietly let out another cry before he could even say it.

He let out a deep breath.

"I think I saw my father."


	25. Pain

Content Warning: Child Abuse, physical/bodily abuse  
___________________________________

George tried to regulate his breathing. He felt everything slowly become numb, like stone. He mistakenly looked into the eyes of Medusa, feeling her wrath taking control; creeping all the way from his feet, to his fingernails. No matter how unforgiving her eyes were, they failed at turning his torturous mind alike with the rest of his body. He was always left with those memories.

Too much time was wasted on trying to forget. No matter how hard he tried, they kept coming back to laugh at him. He sat on the cold floor balled up, surrounded by large, dark figures screeching at him.

George thought if it was even worth talking about. What was the point? What was it going to solve? No one had the bearing to understand his unbearable pain; accepting that was strangely relieving.

But now as Clay sits besides him, something feels different; it has been for a while.

He wondered if anything would change.   
  
  
  
  
  


_George looked down, refusing to make eye contact with the woman sitting across from him. He painfully grasped his hands together in his lap, trying to conceal his violent shaking. He couldn't stop his lips from quivering. His vision was completely blurred from the tears welling up in his eyes._

_The room was cold; his thin, torn up jacket didn't help at keeping him warm. He looked down at his hands. They were all scratched up, his fingernails dirty from being outside, having to sleep on the ground._

_"Are you cold?" Her soft voice wasn't comforting; it wasn't worth trusting. She stood up and walked towards him. He shut his eyes, his entire body began to shake, expecting something. His breathing became fragile as he felt her get closer. He slowly opened his eyes as he felt a blanket slowly being wrapped around his body. She sat back down in her chair._

_"Is that okay?" She smiled._

_He didn't speak. George continued to look down at the bleak table._

_"So, I want to ask you some questions about your father." She tried to conceal the intensity of the question by sounding innocent, but George felt his heart racing, tears threatening to escape._

_Please, not him._

_"Firstly, I want you to know that you're safe here. No one is going to hurt you. We're here to help." She paused, "When was the last time your father took you to school?"_

_Silence, it was becoming deafening._

_"George? It's okay if you don't know." Silence still ensued. He looked down, trying not to cry. He heard her writing something down._

_"Does he feed you?"_

_George swallowed, "N-no," he let out a quiet sob. There was more scribbling from her clipboard._

_"Does he buy clothes for you?" His heart only beat harder from this point, his stomach turned._

_He shakily breathed in, "No," his voice nothing but a whisper._

_"This might be hard to answer, but when was the last time he hit you?"_

_That was it, he couldn't hold it back anymore. George broke down crying, quickly becoming hysterical. He cried into his hands, crying harder every second._

_"Why does he hate me?" George screamed, "What did I do wrong?" He looked into her eyes. She quickly broke eye contact, standing up from her chair and kneeling next to George._

_"Listen George, you're going to stay with us for a while, okay?"_

_"I don't wanna s-see him anymore." George rubbed his eyes._

_The woman sighed, "You won't have to."_   
  
  
  
  
  


George looked at Clay, making brief eye contact.

"Your father?" Clay asked.

George gripped onto the bed sheets, trying to breathe. He didn't know how to explain, or where to even begin. He took a deep breath.

"He," George paused, "He abused me, he ruined my fucking life." A painful silence consumed the entire room.

He couldn't keep it in. There was no going back.

"He hit me every time I spoke. He beat me so fucking hard until I would throw up, so hard until I had broken fingers. He burned me with his cigarettes, he beat me with his bat, he'd force me in the closet for days on end, I had to sleep outside on the fucking concrete while he laughed at me." George at this point didn't realize he was hysterically crying, "I couldn't even recognize my own face because it was beaten so fucking bad." Tears traveled down his red cheeks, "He never gave me food, he never gave me fucking water to drink." He gasped for air as he tried to speak, "He tried to kill me in my sleep."

Rage quickly ravaged his body, "He never gave a shit about me!" George stood up, grabbing the lamp from the night stand and viciously throwing it across the room, shattering against the wall. He collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

He felt Clay wrap his arms around his shaking body and embraced him tight. George dug his nails into Clay's back, crying in his chest.

"W-what did I do to deserve this?" George could barely speak.

"Nothing. None of that is your fault, I promise." Clay held him even tighter. He heard Clay's voice break at the end of his sentence.

They sat on the floor together, the only thing filling the room was George's trapped emotions. His emotions were like a zoo; trapped in cages for his demon's entertainment. Over time they've become stuck, unable to heal themselves, only to be accustomed to the constant pain they had to endure.

But something about this pain felt relieving; it was necessary. They were slowly being freed from being held captive for so long. Something about this felt good; different.

"That's the first time I said that out loud." George whispered. The weight of the entire world seemed like it was lifted away from his soul, at least for now. Clay hugged him close, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. George closed his eyes, taking in his comforting warmth.

Clay pulled away and held George's face with both of his hands, wiping away his tears with his thumbs, "George, I'm so sorry. I don't, I don't know what to say, or what _is_ the right thing to say but, I care about you so much, you don't even understand, and I wish you would. I'm here for you, I'll never leave you." Clay tried to stay strong but tears soon fell from his face. George looked into his eyes. He didn't realize until now how pure they were until now. They were understanding.

Someone was finally listening. Someone took the time to understand.

Tears welled up in his eyes, "Thank you."

George hugged Clay, feeling his arms wrap him from behind.

_This is all I've ever wanted._

_But, if only, you were ..._

_You were ..._   
  
  


George opened his eyes, looking at the same, bare ceiling. He glanced around, realizing that he was the only one in the room. George got out of bed, headed towards the door and opened it.

The apartment was dark; all the lights shut off. Clay was nowhere in sight. George quickly looked in the bathroom, the guest room, then everywhere else, but he wasn't there. Reality settled in.

His heart sank.

"He left, he really did," George whispered.

_You should've known better._

_It's your fault for even believing him._

_You stupid idiot._

George sat down on the couch, gripping onto his shirt. He didn't know if he was angry, sad, or scared. But he wasn't surprised. The clock ticking echoed as it bounced off the dim, pale walls.

George quickly wiped away his tears the second he felt it leave his eyes.

_Just move on, you're used to this-_

Jangling from the front door startled George. He stood up and looked directly at it. The door swung open, revealing Clay. He stumbled in as he walked inside with some plastic bags.

"Hey!" Clay set the bags on the counter, "You fell asleep so I put you to bed," The apartment felt like it changed colors; colors that he could never see, but knew that they were there. His smile alone could light up the entire world. "So uh, sorry but, I thought you might've been hungry so I used your car to get some food, but then I forgot you guys drive on the left side of the road but don't worry! I didn't crash." George looked at his face, his smiling, forgiving face. He ran towards him and hugged him.

"Thank you." George sniffled.

Clay pulled back, "What's wrong? What did I do? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone out without telling you-"

"No no no, it's okay. Let's eat." George let go of his grasp. They both washed up and sat down, eating the food Clay brought.

His mind was playing tricks on him, he felt like he was setting himself up to be upset; to prepare for the absolute worst. Clay was telling the truth; never in his life has he felt more connected to someone else. His heart was telling him something, and maybe this once, he should listen.

_He promised that he'd never leave me._

_He promised that I could tell him anything._

_He promised that he'd never hurt me._

_He promised._

His heart at this point was full of too many emotions; too much to handle. But thankfully Clay was here to listen for the first time. Maybe he should open up more; allow someone to share their willing compassion.

It may be hard at first, but it might be worth it.

Clay took the duty of cleaning up after they finished eating. George washed up in the bathroom, splashing some water on his face. Looking in the mirror confused George. What about him made Clay so connected to him? Because George didn't have the brightest personality, or the best looks in the world.

_What is it?_

Thinkingabout it made it more heartwarming. Maybe Clay was simply connected to him as an actual person; not solely motivated by something shallow like looks.

_He really does care?_

George let out a sigh.

_I've done enough crying today._

George walked into the living room, "Do you wanna watch movies or something?"

"Sure! Let me change first."

"Okay." George smiled. He sat down on the couch, turning on the TV and browsing the endless amount of movies on Netflix. He settled on this popular action movie at the time. Clay came out of the room carrying some blankets, throwing them on the couch. They got comfortable, wrapping themselves with the blankets. George played the movie, watching the screen with Clay.

The content of the movie contrasted his feelings at the moment. Having Clay by his side made him feel happy. As simple as it sounds, it means the world. There wasn't anything in this world that George wanted more than this moment.

He didn't want him to leave. He wanted him to stay by his side.

George closed his eyes, his senses slowly dissipating from his consciousness. He felt Clay lift his body, carrying him to his room and carefully set him on the bed. Clay quietly shut the door and shut off the light.

He climbed onto the bed and wrapped both himself and George under the blankets. He felt Clay embrace him from behind. 

_I wouldn't know what I'd do without you._


	26. Dread

Clay placed the damp, cold cloth on George's forehead, hoping it would help. He held his chin, took the thermometer and carefully stuck it in George's mouth, placing it under his tongue. He waited for a few seconds before he heard a soft beeping. He slowly pulled it out between his lips and read the small screen.

_38° Celsius? That's 100 degrees? Right?_

Clay pulled out his phone to double check, and to no surprise, it was a fever. George suddenly became sick in the recent days, coming down with a cold. Seeing him ill made Clay hurt inside, the coughing and wheezing didn't help either. Although, it made him optimistic. This gave him the chance to be his caregiver, to do something special. It made everything feel like it was the real thing, almost as if they were,

_Boyfriends._

Now wasn't the time to dwell on anything unrealistic. Clay crouched to meet George eye-to-eye.

"Hey, George," Clay whispered. His eyes were peacefully closed, accompanied by his rosy cheeks. Clay smiled, resisting the constant urge to lean over and kiss him. He could stare at his beautiful face for hours, appreciating every perfection and angle.

"George," He placed his hand on George's bare shoulder, it was warm to the touch. Clay looked at his face as he fluttered his eyes open, "Hey, I'm gonna go and pick up some stuff. I'll get some more medicine and food, but do you want anything else?" Clay smiled.

"W-wait, where are you-" George viciously coughed, clearing his throat, "Where are you going?" His voice was a raspy whisper. Clay's heart fluttered.

"I'm just going out to pick some stuff up. Did you want anything?" He felt his face heating up.

George looked into his eyes, "Uh, n-no, that's okay. Wait, how are you gonna get there? I have some cash so you can get a-" he tried to get out of bed, struggling to reach over to his nightstand for his wallet.

"Hey hey hey hey, take it easy," Clay grabbed George by his arms, settling him back into bed. He readjusted the wet cloth, wrapping him with the blankets. "Stay in bed and get some rest, you're sick. I already called a cab and I have money." Clay reached over and placed his hand on the side of George's face, caressing his cheek. His face turned red in reaction to Clay's touch, "I'll be back soon, call me if you need anything."

"Okay, please be safe."

"I will." Clay got up and left the room, softly shutting the door behind him. He placed his hands on his knees, leaning over.

_Holy shit, I can't believe I did that._

The sensation of his warm, soft skin was enough to send chills down his entire body. His perfect face and beautiful dark eyes were like a spell he was always dazed under.

_His skin, his face, his warmth, he's so fucking perfect. How can someone be so perfect?_

It took everything inside him not to barge back inside that room and kiss him from his forehead all the way down to his chest. But that wasn't the task at hand - as much as he wished it was, taking care of George was the most important thing.

Clay grabbed the apartment keys from the counter to meet his driver outside. He shut off the lights and opened the front door, letting a gush of cool wind inside. The driver was parked along the road, waiting for Clay. He approached the car and climbed inside. They exchanged some words about his destination, all with George in mind. With that, the car started moving forward.

It's been almost a week since they shared that emotional moment together. Since then, Clay felt like he's finally seeing the truest form that George could be, and because of that he feels closer than he's ever been.

Although, it felt bitter that it took them so long to reach this point. George had been wearing a mask, and it took Clay so many years to see a glimpse behind it.

Since the shopping district wasn't too far, the car ride didn't take long. The driver pulled over to the side of the road. Again, they exchanged a few words before they drove off. The area was convenient, it was filled with shops, cafes and local businesses with a colorful park nearby.

Clay headed over to the pharmacy. He went inside and picked up some medicine; just some stuff for George's cough and fever. He didn't want to take too long so he quickly checked his things out and exited the building.

_Okay, now I need to get some food._

He took out his phone, searching for some places to pick up food, although an idea popped inside of his head,

_George likes candy, doesn't he? All those candy wrappers, maybe it'll make him feel better._

He did some searching, trying to look for a shop that sells what he was looking for. The nearest shop was a 15 minute walk. Clay groaned, but realized he could use the exercise. 

Walking along the sidewalk became tedious; every step and one step further way from George. He wondered if he was okay, and if he was feeling any better since he left. Should he call him? Should he text him? He could, but he didn't want to bother him.

Finally reaching the small shop was a relief, he entered the store, hearing the small bell jingle as he opened the glass door. It was a locally owned bakery that sold all kinds of pastries and sweets. Looking at the glasses encased pastries was enough to make him drool.

A wide variety of candies were encased side by side in glass boxes. He walked over and looked at the endless options. Some were wrapped with papers, some were small, big, sweet, sour, hard, and soft. Clay took the scooper and took some of everything, putting them in the plastic bag. He didn't know what he liked but there must be something here he likes.

He took the candy to the counter, being greeted by a young woman.

"Good afternoon! Is this everything?" She exclaimed.

"Yes!"

She punched some numbers on the register, bringing the total on the small screen. He took out some money, placing it in her hand. She gave him a receipt in return.

"Thank you! Have a great day!"

"Thank you, you too," Clay grabbed the bag and left the store, hearing the bell ring as he stepped outside.

_Now for the food ..._

He figured it would be easier to order food to the apartment, so he found a bench and ordered online from a restaurant. He then called another cab; all he had to do was wait.

He went through his phone for a while, feeling the cool breeze caress his face.

"Hey! Hello! Excuse me-" a man yelled in the distance. Clay turned his head, startled. The man ran closer and closer., Clay stood up and took a step back, utterly confused.

_Oh, maybe I forgot something at the store?_

The older man approached him, out of breath, "Hello, hi, sorry, I need to ask you something," the man asked while trying to desperately catch his own breath. His face was terribly aged, his hair messy and beard not taken care of at all.

"Um, sure? Sorry, do I know you?" Clay asked.

"No but-" He paused. For some reason he became nervous.

"You're George's friend right?"

His stomach suddenly dropped, realization sank in.

_Is he, his father?_

He didn't know what to say, he stood there stunned, his heart beating fast, "Uh, no, why?" The air surrounding them became thin, becoming hard to breath, as if they were standing on a mountain top. His hands became sweaty.

"I saw you with him awhile ago in London, I need your help, please. Where is he?" The man pleaded.

"Um, Sorry, I don't know-"

"Please," The man interrupted, "I'm his father. I need to talk to him, where can I find him? Please. I've been looking for him for so long. Just tell me." His voice became shaky.

Clay's head started to spin. He knew George wanted nothing to do with him, and he wasn't going to let him enter his life again.

"I'm sorry no. I-I can't help you." As much as he wanted to let him know how much George despises him, he didn't want to speak for him. It wasn't his place at all.

The man took another step closer, "Please, I need to see him. Just tell me where he lives, I'm begging you." He grabbed Clay by the wrist, "I can give you my phone number-"

Clay ripped his hand away, "Don't touch me," they both turned their heads as Clay's cab pulled up on the side of the road, "Listen, please, if you care about him, just leave him alone."

Clay turned around to enter the car, taking a step inside,

"Sir, please! I really need your-" He desperately shouted.

Clay quickly slammed the door shut, "Sorry, can you just drive?"

"Yeah, no problem," The driver said. The car quickly drove off.

Clay let out a deep sigh, "What the fuck."   
  
  
  


Clay grabbed the bags and exited the car, "Thank you!" With that, the car drove off. He turned around to look at George's apartment and his stomach suddenly dropped, making him sick. He tried to forget whatever just happened, although he had so many questions.

_How the fuck did he find me? Why does he want to talk to George? Where is he?_

Clay felt obligated to make sure to protect him at all costs; he couldn't let that man hurt him ever again. He walked up the stairs towards the door, trying to forget.

_It's best to push that away, just act like it never happened._

He opened the front door. Everything was just like how he left it, all the lights turned off. He placed the bags on the counter, then walked to George's room. He placed his hand on the cold handle and opened the door.

There he was, peacefully sleeping. For some reason he thought something bad must've happened, but thankfully he was there where he left him. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his beautiful face. Clay removed the cloth from his forehead, placing it on the nightstand. He listened to George's soft wheezing as he breathed, watching his chest slowly rise and fall.

He placed his hand on the left side of his face, caressing his warm, red check. He felt his throat swelling, suddenly becoming emotional. Tears soon filled his eyes, falling down his face.

"How could anyone ever hurt you?" he whispered. He tried to keep it in, but he couldn't stop himself from crying.

Pain was all he could feel, but he couldn't imagine what George had to endure.

_I wish I could fix you, make all your pain go away._

_I just want to make you happy._

He looked away, letting out a sob, then wiping away tears.

"Clay? What's wrong?"

He turned his head, startled, "Huh? Oh, nothing," he cleared his throat, "How're you feeling?"

George looked at him with his beading eyes, "I'm okay, but why are you upset?" His voice alone could make him burst into tears.

"I don't know,"

_Just lie_

"Seeing people sick makes me sad for some reason," He forced out a laugh hoping George would buy it.

"Oh well, don't worry about me, I actually feel a lot better now, so no need to feel sad." George smiled. A wave of relief reassured Clay.

_That was too close._

"That's good," he smiled back, "Well I brought some medicine, you should probably take some of that right now, and food is on the way."

"Okay, thank you."

"Don't worry about it."

A knock on the door claimed their attention, "I'll get it," Clay got up and got the food from the delivery guy, placing the bag on the table. He grabbed the medicine and went back to George's room, "I'm putting the medicine in the bathroom, take some of the pills to help with your fever."

"Okay I will."

He got some plates and cups from the cabinets, getting ready to eat. George came back from the bathroom, joining Clay in the kitchen.

"Make sure to eat, it'll make you feel better."

"Stop worrying so much, I'll be fine."

Clay laughed, "Sorry that I care so much," George smiled.

They both started to eat, slowly finishing their food. As much as he wanted to enjoy it, his encounter with George's father lurked in the back of his mind. One part of him wanted to tell him, but the other part couldn't let himself do that.

He didn't know what to do, or what to say. His father seemed like a distant figure, but now, he was closer than he could ever imagine.

And that was the most terrifying thing.

The most precious human sat in front of him, and now, something out there was trying to destroy it completely.

But all he could do is nothing.

He felt his throat swell up again, and he quickly cleared his throat, "Hey! So, I picked up something else that I thought you might like." He got up and grabbed the bag from the counter and placed it on the table, revealing what was inside, "I found this shop and got a bunch of candies that looked cool." Clay turned to look at George, his face completely lit up. He got up from his chair to look inside.

"Thank you! Thank you so much I, I really appreciate it, I-I like it a lot, thank you." George stumbled over his words.

Clay laughed, "Yeah, of course, but finish your food first."

They finished their food, cleaning up right after. They decided to watch a movie afterwards and spend the rest of the day inside. They didn't want to do much until George's fever went away. Both snacked on the candy while watching the movie, but all Clay could focus on was,

_George's father ..._

With each passing second he only grew more anxious.

_How did he find me? Why does he want to speak to George? What should I do? What can I do?_

Clay felt hopeless, it was like watching a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

_All I want to do is protect you._

_He won't hurt you,_

_I promise._


	27. Denial

It was mid afternoon, a normal day. Spending day after day with George started to feel more and more normal. The thought of going back to Florida wasn't even on his mind. Everyday he felt even more so connected with him, his feelings growing stronger. There _was_ no going back home, this is his new home.

For so long, Clay had felt lost, searching for something that would fill that empty space in his yearning soul. That emptiness constantly tortured him, forcing him into the dark abyss he once was so afraid of. And now, everything was starting to make sense, puzzle pieces falling into the places where they always belonged.

Going back home would mean no more seeing his perfect face, his adoring personality, smelling his alluring scent and no longer cuddling him in his sleep.

He wished time was an infinite, a never ending fantasy. There wasn't enough time in the day to cherish each moment, or to even open the door for more memories.

He wondered if there was even enough time to tell him,

_That I love you._

_"_ Hey." Clay looked up from the couch, George walked in with a towel hanging over his shoulder, his hair damp from the shower he had just taken.

"Good morning sleepy head," Clay responded.

"Isn't it like 2?"

"Exactly," Clay smiled, followed by George's laughter.

George yawned and opened the fridge, "Oh, I need to go grocery shopping."

Clay got up, "I can come! Go get ready," he suddenly realized how loud he was, quickly becoming embarrassed.

_"_ Uh, okay, I'll be right back." George headed off into the room, closing the door.

_Damn, try relaxing a little next time._

Clay put on his shoes and coat and sat on the couch. He scrolled through his phone for a couple of minutes until George came out of the room.

"We should try to cook something here!" George suggested.

"Oh, so you know how to cook? Are you a chef or something?" Clay jokingly said.

"Shut up, come on let's go."

George grabbed his things and they headed outside to the car.  
  
  
  


Clay followed George from behind as they walked through the grocery store. The bright lights shined down the watery, glistering vegetables, asking to be eaten. George had the idea to make a meal together at the apartment, but they had to restock the empty fridge. Although while coming here, the thought of food wasn't the only thing he was worried about.

Clay pushed the small cart, feeling his heart racing. He turned his head, looking all around, his eyes landing on every face in his view.

_He could be anywhere._

He squeezed his hands on the handle, his knuckles turning white. He made sure to be as close to George as possible. His stomach turned, making him feel sick. His head was spinning, pounding rhythmically. He was prepared for the worse. But the sensation of feeling prepared wasn't comparable to the inconceivable fear of anticipating the unknown. It was pulling at his heart, making him hurt every second that passes by. How could someone feel so powerful, yet so insignificant? What could he do? What _can_ he do-

"Clay?" He darted his head all around, eventually landing on George's confused face.

"Huh?"

"I asked if we should get some broccoli." George repeated.

"Yeah! Yeah, why not." Clay tried to compose himself, forcing an awkward smile.

George looked at him with his beading, dark eyes. Clay felt his face heating up, "Are you okay?" George asked.

Clay broke the painful eye contact, "Yeah! Let's keep going." He tried to push the cart forward, but George stopped him, grabbing the handle.

"What's wrong? Why do you keep looking around?" George became even more concerned. Clay opened his mouth, trying to figure out what to say, but nothing seemed to come out.

George's eyes widened, Clay felt his stomach drop.

_Fuck, please no._

_No._

"Don't worry, no one recognizes me here, so no one will figure you out," George chuckled, "I promise." The weight of a thousand suns felt like they were lifted from his shoulders. His smiling face was reflective of his pure soul. It radiated throughout the entire planet.

_That was too close._

"Oh, um, okay! Yeah, sorry."

George turned around and they both moved forward, continuing their shopping trip. Clay looked down, squeezing the handle again.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do?_

_I have to tell him, I have to. What's the point of keeping it all in?_

_He needs to know._

_No._

_I can't, I can't tell him. He's doing so much better. I can't scare him._

_He can't worry about it._

_Not today._

He had to compose himself, act as if nothing was wrong. It was the best thing to do. Maybe he was overreacting about the whole situation. The possibility of his father following them and tracking George's location down was slim to none, right? Why would he need to talk to him? What was there to discuss? They're never going to see each other again, and that's a fact - it had to be. Clay let out a soft sigh, trying to calm himself.

He watched George as he took various items off the shelves and put them in the cart. The blinding fluorescent lights that lit the entire store didn't help with his headache, it only made it worse. The building wasn't too busy, but there were too many people for Clay to keep track of.

_Just let it go, everything is going to be okay._

"What kind of pasta did you want to make again?" George asked.

Clay looked up, "It doesn't matter, you can decide."

"Okay."

Clay couldn't help but smile at George. It was colder than usual outside, with the winds pushing the degree lower and lower. George had put on an oversized sweater with a dark coat. The checkered pattern scarf he also wore covered his entire neck and almost the entirety of his mouth. His cheeks were still glowing a light pink from the cold wind outside.

George made it impossible not to fall in love with him. Clay found it impressive that he hadn't kissed him yet, solely from not being able to control himself. He was constantly dodging bullets from an unknowing, clueless sender.

"Oh! We should bake cookies or something." Clay said.

"Sure, why not. What kind?" George asked.

"I only know how to make chocolate chip, any other ones I'll just end up burning." Clay laughed.

"Yeah I'm not surprised."

Clay's face dropped, "Wha-"

"I'm kidding!" George laughed.

Happiness came like a wave. His face shone like a bright star, illuminating his ever-lasting light right through Clay's body. It's been forever since he's seen George so happy, it was all he could ask for. It had to keep on going, and Clay made sure of that.

"Of course you are." They both laughed together. They walked around the store, searching for the ingredients for the cookies and the rest of the shopping list. Clay looked outside one of the large windows as George was picking some oranges. The wind outside was picking up, the sky slowly getting darker from the heavy clouds.

"We should leave soon, it looks like it's gonna rain." Clay suggested.

"I'm actually done! We can check out now." George said.

They made their way to the cash register, placing the items on the conveyor belt for the cashier. George and the young man made some small talk as he dragged each item across the scanner, filling the noisy air with its beeping. Clay helped put the bagged items in the cart as George went ahead and paid for the groceries.

The clouds sprinkled down rain droplets onto the pavement as they walked to the car. George opened the trunk and started to put the bags inside. Clay turned around to grab a bag, feeling the smooth paper between his fingers. He lifted his head, looking towards the store.

His vision narrowed, everything blurring around the one thing his eyes focused on.

His stomach dropped.

_It's him._

Clay turned around, "George, get in the car now."

George looked at Clay, "Why? I'm not done-"

Clay grabbed him by the face, preventing him to look behind, "Get in the car, now. I'll drive."

George flinched at his sudden touch, "What's happening?"

"Get in the car now!" Clay yelled.

A look of sudden terror came over his face. He watched George quickly get into the passenger side. Clay looked behind, the man was picking up his pace.

"Hey! Wait!" He yelled.

Clay threw the rest of the groceries in the back. The man at this point started running to the passenger side of the car, getting closer with each step. Clay ran to the driver seat and slammed the door shut.

"What's going on? Who is that?" George's voice began to tremble.

Clay frantically turned the engine on. Wasting no time, he pulled out of the parking spot, almost crushing the shopping cart, tumbling it to the ground. He looked around for the exit. Clay looked out the back, to the right, then the left. But as he headed to the exit, it was too late.

As he drove, he passed his father on the side George was sitting. Everything seemed to stop and proceed in slow motion.

_No,_

_This wasn't supposed to happen._

_I fucked up._

George and his father passed each other, only separated by a sheet of glass, meeting eye to eye for this first time in so many years.

The car screeched as it pulled into the street, nearby cars honked at Clay as he recklessly navigated on the busy road.

"Clay what's going on? Wh-Who was that? Can you slow down?" George's voice started to slowly break.

"I'll explain everything when we get back."

"You're scaring me, what's happening? Please."

Clay tried to get out of the area, swerving between the cars in different lanes. He kept looking in the rear view mirror to make sure they weren't being followed.  
  
  
  
  


They eventually left the main city and traveled towards George's apartment. The entire car ride was silent, the air becoming poisonous. George squeezed his hands in his lap, looking down.

How was he going to explain what just occurred? Millions of phrases went through his head, but not one seemed to work. How was he going to look into his innocent eyes and tell him that his father is trying to look for him.

_How._

After some time, Clay pulled into the parking lot. He turned off the car and opened the door, "Come on, let's go inside."

They made their way up the stairs, walking inside the cold apartment. Clay shut the door behind him and locked it. The air suddenly became thin, allowing no rest between any of the words they were about to speak.

"Clay, please tell me what's going on." George's words wreaked of nerves.

He let out a heavy sigh. Clay walked over to the couch and sat down. George followed, sitting across from him, "George," He paused, "I don't know how to say this."

He looked down, frustrated. Clay quickly became angry at himself, he placed his hands on his head, pulling at his hair, "Fuck! I'm sorry," He sighed, "I can't, I just, I-I don't know how to say this. I just want to protect you, but I don't want to scare you."

"Please, just tell me."

Clay paused again, taking in a deep breath, "George, the reason why we left so quickly, is because that man," He shakily squeezed his hands, "That man, was your father."

Clay looked up, trying to decipher George's blank face. A couple seconds of silence ensued, the only thing he could hear was the blood rushing through his brain, back to his red ears.

"What?"


	28. Agony

Content Warning: Child abuse, physical abuse, violence, strong language, blood

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

_George looked through the dirty, stained window. The paint from the wooden frame chipped off with the slightest breath, revealing its old skeleton. Past through the trees was the park. Although it was hard to see; it was there. It was down the long, empty street, just a minute away from his house._

_Every day he grew more lonely. He felt like a caged animal, never being able to see the outside world. There was nothing to do but sit and think, and even that has become tedious. Imagining what it would be like to have a friend hurt too much, because he knew something like that would never happen._

_He looked at the park once again. He couldn't remember what it felt like to ride a slide, rushing down with excitement, heading towards the ground. Maybe the swing set was even more fun; he wondered how high he could get, maybe high enough to touch the sky. But such a simple task possessed an enormous risk._

_Should I go?_

_George quietly got up and walked to his father’s room, standing in front of the dark door. He stood in silence, waiting for a sound. His heart started racing as soon as he heard his loud snoring._

_This is my chance._

_He slowly headed to the front door, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him. The cool breeze caressed his pale face, making him smile. Not wasting any time he rushed down the street, heading straight to the park. He looked both ways before crossing the street, stepping onto the grass. He looked up at the playground, realizing it was empty. For some reason George thought he could build up the courage to make a friend, but today wasn’t that day,_

_He climbed up the tall slide, taking a second before plunging down. The excitement pulsed through his veins, laughing as he hit the ground. He quickly got up and ran to the swings, sitting down. His legs swung back and forth, feeling the motion picking up. He got higher and higher, smiling. George looked up at the sky, looking at the birds flying freely with the clouds._

_He had no idea how much time had passed before he finished playing on the playground. He dusted himself off and decided to go home. He ran back as fast as he could, slowing down as he stood in front of his old house. George walked up the patio steps, quietly opening the door, flinching as it creaked._

_He took a step inside, looking up._

_“Where the hell were you.”_

_George’s heart dropped. He looked him in the face with quivering eyes._

_“I-I was at the park.” his voice died, he looked down at the dirty floor. George could already feel the tears welling up in his eyes._

_The man leaned over, “What did I say about going outside?” his breath reeked of alcohol._

_He shut his eyes, bracing for impact, “God, you’re so fucking stupid!” The man stood up and struck George in the face, knocking him to the ground. He let out a cry in pain. The man grabbed him by the neck, “Why don’t you ever listen to me!?” He banged George’s head on the floor as he spoke his hurtful words, “Why are you so fucking stupid!? You’re worthless piece of shit!” George screamed in pain, sobbing as his head hit the floor. The man stood up and kicked him repeatedly in the stomach._

_“I-I’m s-sorry-” George couldn't finish his sentence before being kicked again. The man picked him up and walked to the back door. He opened it and threw him down the steps and onto the ground. His skin dragged across the pavement, making his fragile skin bleed. He screamed in pain as he hit the ground once more, breaking out into hysterics._

_“Stop crying!” The man yelled. George covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stop himself from letting out a sob. He made eye contact with the man as he stood on the patio looking down at George._

_“W-when will you realize how fucking worthless you are. You weren't meant to exist. You ruined everything. One day, I’m going to make sure you pay the price.” He slammed the door shut._

_George laid on the ground still, crying into his hands._

  
  
  


_When will it end?_

  
  
Every sound that surrounded the both of them instantly became obsolete, suddenly disappearing from its own existence. The room turned cold, morphing into an unfamiliar space. He couldn’t feel what he was sitting on, or remember what the sensation of that was even like. Everything in his view mushed together, becoming a blurry mess. The only thing he could see was the diffused light coming through the window. 

“George?” 

His vision became even more blurry, becoming impossible to make out what was in front of him. A deep, pounding sensation traveled from his stomach all the way up to his throat. His breathing became heavier, becoming shaky. 

After trying so many times, he thought it worked. He finally thought he ran away for good, never having to see him again. But now he was coming back. No matter how far he ran, he was there. The never ending nightmare was becoming a reality once again. Tears unknowingly traveled down George’s face, falling to the floor. 

“George.” 

Clay stood up and hugged George, “Everything is gonna be okay, I promise.”

A spark ignited inside him, suddenly combusting in every part of his body. The flames became too furious to keep inside. This feeling turned into an inescapable anger. George opened his eyes. 

He pulled back, grabbed Clay by the collar of his shirt, and threw him to the ground as hard as he could. George stood up, breaking out into hysterics. 

“Fuck your promises!” George started sobbing, refusing to break eye contact with Clay. 

“You promised me that everything would be okay, that nothing would happen, you fucking lied to me. Why would you do that!?” George screamed through his tears. 

Clay looked at him completely blank, shaking, “G-George-” 

“Shut the fuck up! Please shut up!” George shouted while covering his red ears. He stood there crying in the air, begging for the pain to stop. 

He then looked down. He felt his entire body become paralyzed, not being able to move. His breathing became frantic, being unable to process what he was looking at.

_It’s him._

_It’s him._

_It’s him._

George let out a blood curdling scream, falling to the ground. The man shifted his body up, looking at George. 

“Stop! P-please stop, stop stop stop! Get away from me!” George cried. He backed away, trying to distance himself from the man. Although the fear was paralyzing, the anger that was building up inside of him was boiling. The pot was soon filled to the max. There was no going back. George stood up and tackled the man to the ground, climbing on top of him and straddling him on the waist. 

He placed his hands on the man’s neck, squeezing as hard as he could. The man gasped for air, desperately trying to get his hands off of his neck, but George’s grasp was too strong. He looked at him with his vicious eyes.

“How does it feel? Doesn’t feel good right?” Tears traveled down the man’s face, “What are you crying about? You weren’t fucking crying when you hit me, when you kicked me, when you tried to fucking kill me.” George squeezed his neck even harder, hearing the man sob and gasp for air. He kept tightening his grip. 

“G-George-”

“Shut up!” He screamed, “Y-you wanted me to die, right? Isn’t this fair, after all the shit you put me through?” Tears traveled down George’s face, “W-why won’t you fucking die?!” he cried. George held his neck for a couple more seconds before letting go. The man gasped for air, crying - but that air allowed him to keep on living. 

George only grew more furious. He balled his hand in a fist, lifted his arm in the air, and punched the man across the face. The man groaned, continuing to sob. George couldn’t stop himself, it was so gratifying. He hit him over and over again, with each hit becoming stronger. He smiled as he saw blood coming out of the man’s mouth. George struck him in the eye, leaving a heavy mark. He continued to hit him until more of his face became red and blue. 

Blood spewed from the man's nose and mouth. George laughed, but as genuine as his laugh seemed, he continued to cry. He grabbed him by the neck and started banging his head against the floor. 

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! I-I never deserved any of this, why would you do this to me?! P-please tell me.” He looked at the man’s eyes, “What? _Now_ you don’t wanna talk? You talked so much fucking shit back then, why not tell me now? You look so fucking dumb right now, you piece of shit.” George sobbed. 

“Just fucking die!” He punched him across the face one final time, spewing blood across the floor. George looked at his shaking fist, it was covered in blood, red from the constant blows. He looked down to see the pain the man was in. After so many years, he finally got what he deserved. George was finally able to fight back. 

He looked down at his beaten, unrecognizable face. 

George stopped breathing. 

He looked closer. 

His hands began shaking uncontrollably. 

It wasn’t his father. 

It was … 

“C-clay?” George whispered. He looked at his bloody hands, then back at Clay’s face, “Clay?” George cried. He carefully touched the side of his face, caressing it, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t, I didn’t mean-” George covered his mouth, realizing what he had done. 

He climbed off of his body and stared at the floor. His entire body trembled uncontrollably. He broke out crying, screaming into the silence. Tears fell down his face and onto the floor, creating a small puddle. 

“George.”

He stopped crying. 

“I-It’s okay.”

George looked up. 

“I’m okay.”

Clay slowly got up, holding in his groans. He painfully crawled across the floor, reaching out his arms, and eventually hugged George. He looked at the ceiling wide-eyed, slowly holding him back. He felt Clay rub his back. 

“I’m sorry.” Clay whispered. 

George took a sharp breath in. He pulled back, holding Clay’s face with both of his hands, “W-what?”

Clay wiped away George’s tears, “I’m sorry that my words didn’t make you feel safe, that you thought they weren’t true.”

George shook his head, “No, no no. Clay, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean any of this-”

“Stop apologizing, there’s a reason why you feel this way. George, I don’t want to leave your side. No matter what happens.”

“W-why?” George asked.

Clay sighed, “Because I care about you. George, I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me. I hate that you don't know.”

George shut his eyes and began sobbing, “I’m sorry.”

Clay held him tight.

“It’s okay.”

They sat on the floor together, holding each other tight. Something inside felt different. Up until now, George realized it had been growing steadily since he met Clay, but he doesn’t know what it was exactly. It felt like a glowing, warm sea of feelings. He only felt this way with Clay. Up until this point, no one in his life was able to make him feel so,

_Loved?_

He closed his eyes, feeling Clay’s comforting embrace. He pulled back, “Are you sure you’re okay?” George sniffled.

“Yes. Please stop crying, you’re gonna make me cry.” Clay laughed. 

“I should probably clean you up, let's go to the bathroom.” George said. They both got up and headed to the bathroom. Clay sat on the toilet as George grabbed the necessary things under the sink to try to fix what he caused. He took a wet cloth and washed the blood off his face. George felt his throat swelling up, trying to stop himself from crying. 

_How could I have done this?_

_What’s wrong with me?_

_How did he forgive me?_

After cleaning his face and disinfecting his cuts, he took some band-aids, carefully applying them on his cheeks, nose, and forehead. 

“I’m sorry.” George said. 

“Stop saying that, it’s okay. I promise.” Clay smiled. George couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

Clay stood up, “Hey, I’ll go get the groceries from the car, I’ll make us dinner.”

“Clay?”

He stopped as he reached the door, “Can we forget about this for today? I still want to talk about it though.”

“Yeah, of course.” Clay turned around and left the room. George got up and went to the living room to clean the mess from the floor. He couldn’t help but feel disgusted with himself as he looked at the glistening blood. How could he let himself turn into this ugly monster? How could he feel so ugly, yet so comforted?

The door swung open, once again revealing Clay, “Alright! Let’s get cooking!”

George felt a tear escape his eye. 

_I don't deserve you._


	29. Whole

Content warning: mention of death  
___________________________________

He resembled an oil painting, carefully crafted by a passionate artist. His presence was infatuating, forcing himself to have the desire to possess more knowledge of its unknowing story. It was a beautiful picture, lacking any flaws that it _should_ have.

Walking through a museum and mindlessly taking in its craft is something that most people take for granted. Glancing at the endless array of artwork plastered against the many corridors does not allow anyone to fully appreciate the amount of time that was put into each drop of paint. Although, there is always one trapped among the infinite pictures in the black sea that manages to pull itself out from the bottom just to meet your naive eyes.

It speaks to you, showing it's alluring colors. Everyone around you smiles and moves along, never to think about it again. But this time, you can't look away. There is something underneath it's beautiful colors that share an estranged story. While it is indifferent to everyone else, it completes an empty piece to your lonely spirit.

It takes more than a couple seconds to acknowledge the artists' work, and it may take a couple minutes to understand its meaning. But who knows how long it'll take for you to fully comprehend the entirety of its purpose. And until then, maybe one day you and the painting will become one; completing each other.

Clay looked at George as he glanced out the large window. He always wondered what goes through his head during times like these. His soul has never felt so belonged now that he was with George. Everyday his heart yearned for him, hoping that he was somewhere in George's heart.

The sounds of forks softly clanking against plates and the mumbling of many voices that sat around them slowly woke Clay from his deep thoughts.

"What ever happened to Patches, is she okay?" George jokingly asked.

Clay looked him in the face, almost startled. He quickly let out a laugh, "Oh! Don't worry she's fine. My sister is taking care of her."

George smiled, "That's good," he looked out the window again, "Do you miss Florida at all?"

Clay glanced down at George's hand, "No, not really," he laughed, "I lived there my whole life so I've pretty much seen everything there is. I really like it here, I really like being here with you." Clay felt his cheeks warm up from the inside.

George smiled, "Well I'm really glad that you like it here. I just don't want you to feel obligated to stay here with me,"

Sadness filled his heart.

_Is he imagining a world without me?_

_No, that's a good thing, he's healing._

_How selfish can I be to force him to be by my side?_

"Sometimes I feel guilty that you've stayed here for this long, I don't want to hold you back or anything." George said.

Clay found some relief in his words, "Don't say that! You don't have to worry about me. Honestly, I love it here so much better than back home." Clay smiled.

"I mean, as long as you're happy then that makes me happy." His heart fluttered like a baby bird. Clay noticed that George could not keep eye contact with him for no longer than a split second. The waitress suddenly returned with their food, placing it on the table.

"Do you guys need anything else?" She happily asked.

"No thank you, we're good." George replied. With that, they were left alone again. Earlier in the day, George had the idea to go out of town to sightsee again. They spent most of the day walking around the nearby city and visiting many local businesses. It really felt genuine, like they were married. The thought alone of seeing George in a tuxedo on their wedding day could make him emotional.

The thought of achieving his wildest dreams was a frightening frontier. Those dreams inevitably change their shape with age. Life can be full of whatever you make it, including the impossible tales one can imagine. Although, life can be cruel with its unbendable rules. No one can predict the future, it's pure truth may be too unbearable for some to handle.

Sometimes dreams can be too good to be true. One could spend every minute of their life working towards their goal at the end of the dark tunnel, smiling as they run towards the bright light. That dream was spectacular in every way they would have imagined, lacking any flaw.

But some say that it's nature's cruel law to die without achieving your perfect dream. Because after spending every ounce of your blood, sweat and tears for it to finally be in your callow hands.

All that you're left with is,

_Reality._

_The ultimate price._

_Was it worth it?_

_What did it cost you?_

"Clay?"

He looked up, dazed, "Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

He tried to collect his thoughts, "Yeah! Sorry." Heat radiated from his face.

"You like, zoned out, do you feel sick?" George asked.

"I'm good!" Clay laughed, "I was just thinking about something." He became embarrassed, trying to cover up his humility.

"What were you thinking about?"

_Fuck._

Clay watched as George pulled a spoonful of food into his mouth, trying to think of a cover up of a response, "U-um, just some video ideas."

"Oh, what did you come up with? Maybe I should film something soon." George munched on his food.

_God damnit._

He quickly scrambled his words, "I mean, I'm not entirely one-hundred percent yet, I'll tell you later." Clay nervously smiled.

"Okay," George smiled back. Clay internally let out a sigh of relief. Considering how long he's known him, at times he finds it hard to talk to him. It hurts him to think that he's always breaking their promise.

He ate his food with George, enjoying every second he spent with him. He caught some glimpses of his face, and for some reason his heart hurt. All he wanted was to love him, become the one that George would love with all of his being. Although, that thought was slowly becoming the thorns of the rose.

He was becoming selfish, freely indulging in his own thoughts.

_Me and George,_

_Together as one._

_Forever._

It was wrong to make himself believe that George would have the desire to love him. The man that sat across him had bigger demons in his life to bear with, and to force a crazy ideology on his innocent soul would be a cruel action on his part. His soul was fragile, like a newly bloomed flower in the pouring rain. He was becoming happier despite the circumstances, showing his true self amid the chaos.

"Do you wanna go to the beach? It's really warm out and it's not too far from here." George suggested.

Clay looked up, smiling, "Sure! Why not."

They finished up their food, with George paying the bill. They headed out to the car, driving along the empty road to the beach. Moments like this is what Clay cherished the most, just enjoying his warm presence.   
  
  
  
  


George stopped in the nearby parking spots that laid against the sand. They both exited the car and headed towards the soft waves. Strangely enough, the beach was empty with no one in sight. The only thing that surrounded them were the sounds of the soft waves crashing against the tides. Despite all the cold, rainy days that plagued the sky, this day was especially warm and sunny, giving another reason to make Clay smile.

Once they made it to the sand, they took off their shoes. Clay followed George's lead as he took off his socks, rolled up his pants and quickly ran into the water.

Clay gasped as he took a step inside, "Holy shit it's so cold!"

George laughed, "Oh, is it?" George crouched and cupped some water in his hands, suddenly splashing it all over Clay.

"George stop! That's actually really cold!" Clay laughed along. He retaliated by doing the same back.

"No! Stop, please, you're getting all my clothes wet!" George exclaimed.

George quickly took a step back, gasping as he stepped on something, causing him to stumble over. Clay ran forward, catching him in time before he fell in the water. George held him tight, head in his chest. He pulled back, his face completely red.

"T-thanks, sorry, that was a close one." George nervously laughed.

Clay couldn't help but smile, "Don't worry about it, let's go back and sit down before one of us actually gets drenched."

They both walked back on the sand, sitting down and looked ahead at the blue water. The sounds of the waves were enough to make him fall asleep. Clay dug his toes in the sand, thinking about what to say.

"Clay?"

He turned to look at him, noticing that his knees were pulled to his chest, "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

Clay felt his heart grow heavy, feeling the air around them become thin, "About what?"

"Everything." he paused, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"George, I can't say that I know how you feel, because if I did, I'd be lying," he looked back at the calm waves crashing with one another, "But I know that you're hurting in a way I'd never fully understand, and all I want to do is to make you feel better."

"You are," George suddenly butted in, "ever since you landed here, I've never been so happy," he traced patterns in the sand. "Thank you, thank you for being here with me." His voice cracked.

Clay quickly turned his head, watching those glistening tears run down his face.

"Clay," George dug his hand in the sand, "I'm scared." Clay felt his throat swell up.

"I'm so scared. I don't know what to do, I don't want to see him. I thought I finally got away from everything. After so long, I was able to make something out of myself, I finally felt like I was worth something, because my entire life, I thought I had no purpose, that I was worthless." George closed his eyes, continuing to cry, "I can't look at you, because everytime that I look at your face, I can't stop thinking about what I did to you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry for that. I allowed myself to be so controlled by my father that I took it out on you. And for you to forgive me." George took a deep breath in,

"I-I don't deserve you."

Clay wrapped his arms around George, holding him tight.

"I-I don't know what to do anymore. I'm s-sorry."

Clay held him even closer, feeling his eyes become watery. "Whatever happens, just know that I'll never leave you." He felt George dig his fingers into his back.

"Thank you." he rubbed the back of his head, feeling his soft hair between his fingers, "I don't know what it is about you," Clay felt his heartbeat get faster, "but I've never felt this way with anyone before, and I really care about you, I really do."

Clay shut his eyes, letting out a sob, "You have no idea how much you mean to me. You have no idea how much that makes me happy."  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Clay hugged George from behind, knowing that he found his painting. His soft breathing filled the silence, his face illuminated by the moon. He came to a realization, one that would comfort him. Taking risks is an unavoidable expense, and deciding which ones to take can be a daunting task.

But, George was his everything. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't imagine a life without him, and that was the key. It doesn't matter how he was in his life; whether they were destined to be together, or just as friends separated by an endless ocean, he knew that George was meant to be in his life. And as long as he's with him,

There was nothing that could make him happier.

He hugged George tight, never letting him go.

He closed his eyes, falling asleep next to him, knowing there wasn't anything that could tear them apart.


	30. Epiphany

Content warning: child abuse, physical abuse, violence, death  
___________________________________

"George, I'm leaving! I'll be back soon." Clay shouted.

"Okay, be safe." George shouted towards the door.

"Bye! Text me if you need anything!" Clay yelled.

"Okay bye!"

He heard the front door open, close, then heard it lock. George rested his head on the pillow.

It's been almost a month since he arrived. Everything was making sense, falling into place. Everyday felt more peaceful than the last. Oddly enough, he felt like he was finally able to grasp onto the bars of control. His life up until this point was flipping upside down, creating an opposite version of what it used to be.

Every wrong was turning into a right. Every mistake he thought he made actually served a purpose, helping him realize who he was. All the pain that he held on was slowly slipping from his hands, never to be seen again. He couldn't help but feel so stupid for holding onto the most unnecessary things. But as relieved as he felt, he knew deep down that this wasn't possible without Clay.

He wished he could figure it out, what all those feelings meant. He's seen many faces, felt the embraces of many people. But something was always different whenever he was with Clay.

Something different _._

_Why?_

_What is it?_

_Why can't the universe just give me an answer?_

He'd basically given up at this point, leaving it in the hands of time itself; it would be best if he didn't question it, because no matter how hard he thought about it, he could never understand.

But now he laid in bed alone. Clay took it upon himself to run some errands for the day, claiming that it would be better if he stayed back at the apartment and get some rest.

_Whatever that means._

He wrapped himself in the blankets, wishing he was cuddling with Clay like the night before. He closed his eyes, being left with his lingering thoughts.

They've lived under the same roof for some time now, and they've been able to get along well, sharing all the house chores and responsibilities. Lately, the idea of moving in with Clay wasn't out of the question. The idea of living with him made him smile.

It was almost like they were a married couple. George suddenly laughed to himself.

_How interesting would that be._

He turned to his side. If he slept now, he would be able to wake up to Clay coming home. He closed his eyes again, feeling himself slowly fall asleep.   
  
  
  


Knocking coming from the front door suddenly woke him from his deep sleep. He lifted his body up with his arms, making sure he heard that noise correctly. More knocks sounded from the door, but louder. George quickly jumped off the bed, feeling the cold wooden floor with his bare feet.

_Shit, it's Clay._

He remembered how cold it was that day, George even lended him one of his favorite fluffy scarfs before he left.

_I wonder what he got._

He made his way to the door. He wrapped his fingers on the door handle and opened it, letting in the freezing wind as it whipped past his fast.

"Did you forget the-"

"George."

The light that blinded his eyes when he opened the door finally dimmed, allowing him to see who was standing at the door.

"I-I finally found you, George."  
  


He took a step back.   
  


"It's been forever, y-you have no idea how long I've been looking for you." The man let himself inside, shutting the door behind him.  
  


Everything stopped.   
  


He felt his body freeze. His heart stopped beating, his lungs refused to let air in. The world that he stood on with his two bare feet crumbled, leaving nothing but a black hole to engulf him. All he could do was look into the man's eyes, hoping something would come and rescue him from the hell that was unleashed. 

_It's him._

_It's really him._

_It's him._

He suddenly became paralyzed with a fear that was unforgiving. His body began to tremble uncontrollably, he quickly lost all sensation of his limbs. Everything stopped working. 

George shakily lifted his foot to take another step back. 

"George?"

He took a sharp breath in, "W-why are you here?" he whispered.

"I need to talk to you." The man said.

George tried to take another step back but tripped, falling onto the floor. Once again, he looked up at the man from below. The man kneeled, reaching out his hand. George quickly covered his face with his arms, curling up in a ball.

The pain became unbearable. He shut his eyes, praying that it was a nightmare.

 _This can't be real. It can't._ His heart dropped a thousand stories onto a field of nails, finally realizing what was happening.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." George screamed.

"W-what are you-"

"I'm sorry! P-please, I'm sorry." He continued to sob, "P-please don't hit me dad I'm s-sorry." George broke out in hysterics, unable to control himself.

The man took a step closer.

"George, I'm not going to-"

"P-please get away from me." Tears ran down his pale face.

The man grabbed him by the wrist.

He stopped breathing and opened his eyes, glaring down at the floor.   
  


_My whole life._

_My entire life has been a nightmare. Every day and night tortured by him. He never cared, he never loved me, he never gave a shit about me, and for what? All of those hurtful words and scars he relentlessly gave to me every single day tore my soul into a million pieces, and I still can't fix it no matter hard I try. How could he have treated me that way? What did I do to deserve all of those fucking lashings?_

_Nothing._

_Of course it was nothing. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fucking fault. I was an innocent kid that just wanted to see my mom, to hug her._

_My mom. Where is she? I miss her. But how could I miss a stranger? But, it couldn't be my fault that she left me. What could I have done?_

_It's not my fault, it's his fault._

_The worthless, unlovable piece of shit that he claims was me, wasn't me._

_It's him. It's all his fault._

_This ends now, I can't do it anymore._   
  


George looked up, grabbed him by his shirt, lifted him up and threw him against the ground. The man groaned as he laid on the floor.

"What do you want from me." George's words spewed with hatred.

The man looked up with despair, "George, I'm here," he paused, "I'm here because I wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"What?" He felt his head pounding.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that I did to you. I love you George, I really do."

George smiled, then giggled. He looked at the man's face. George broke out into an intense laughter, hollering into the air. He leaned over trying to catch his breath. He looked up.

"You're sorry?" George asked.

The man's face turned red, "Y-yes, I am. I truly am. I regret everything that I did."

George balled his hand into a fist, "You're fucking sorry?"

"George I-"

"After everything you put me through, you're sorry?!" his breathing became heavy. Rage gripped him, unable to let go. Fury traveled through every vein and blood cell that resided in his body. He began shaking uncontrollably, his eyes wide open.

"You wanna be fucking sorry?!" George roared.

"W-what?"

George stormed into the kitchen, pulling the biggest knife he could find from one of the drawers. He walked back into the living room with the knife gripped by his white, veiny hand. He pointed it straight at him.

"What are you doing?!" The man cried.

"You're sorry?!" George laughed, "What are you sorry about? Are you sorry about beating me with your metal bat? Are you sorry about beating the living shit out of me with your hands until I couldn't even recognize my own face? Are you sorry about tying me up and throwing me in the closet for days? Are you sorry about making me sleep outside? What about the time you tried to drown me in the bathtub? W-what about the time you tried to kill me in my sleep?!" George cried through his words.

George smiled again, "Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it. But, it's over. It's my turn. It's finally gonna be all over. It's time for you to fucking die, dad."

"George stop! Please! I-I'm sorry! I'll do anything, please." The man broke out into hysterics.

George walked towards his father, watching as he frantically backed away from him. The man screamed on top of his lungs, begging for mercy. He shut his eyes, unable to escape the punishment that long awaited him.

The knife suddenly dropped onto the floor, piercing the silence with it's deafening clanking.

George dropped to his knees and stared at the knife. He covered his mouth with his hands, feeling the cold tears slip between the cracks of his fingers. 

_What am I doing?_

_What's wrong with me?_

He looked up, meeting his father eye to eye. It was a mirror. He was looking right at himself. There was nothing that distinguished himself from his father, he was like a clone. 

_I promised myself that I wouldn't let this happen. How could I have done something like this?_

_I'm better than this._

_I know I am._

George got up and returned the knife to the kitchen. He walked to the living room and stood over him. He lent out his hand, helping his father up from the floor and onto his feet. George motioned at him to sit with him at the kitchen table.

The air became dense, full with tangled emotions.

"Dad?" His father looked up, "Do you know much I suffer because of you?"

Tears welled up in the man's eyes, "Yes."

"Everyday is like a nightmare. I can't sleep at night. I can't hang out with my friends without thinking about you and what you did." George swallowed, "It's a fucking nightmare. I ran away so many times in foster care because I thought the adults were going to do the same thing you did to me. You ruined my life from the start, and now I'm trying to fix it."

Tears silently fell down the man's face.

"There's nothing that you can do or say to fix it. It's over."

The man looked down.

"Dad?" He looked up again.

"What happened to mom?"

He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact, "George uh," he sighed, "We were together for a couple of years after you were born. She had a lot of issues with drugs and stuff like that, and she decided to leave me. It was a really hard time, it destroyed me. She uh, went to go live with someone else and I didn't hear much from her. Listen George," he paused, squeezing his hands nervously, "when you were about five, she passed away."

His heart dropped.

"She had a lot of problems, but when I tell you," he suddenly became choked up. "Y-your mom loved you so much George."

He felt tears traveling down his face. The only thing he could feel was his numb heart.

His father reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took out a small, old photo and handed it to George.

"That's us in the hospital right after you were born."

Something inside him burst with euphoria, like a blooming flower.

"Mom." George whispered. He looked at the picture with his beading eyes. Her radiant smile. Her shoulder length, dirty blonde hair. Her beautiful, dark brown eyes. Her pale skin. Her asymmetrical freckles;

She was so much more beautiful than he ever imagined.

George broke down crying, wishing he could spend one day with her.

"She loved you. She really did. She would want to be with you right now." As tense as the air was, his words were comforting. "You don't have to forgive me, and that's not why I came here. I just wanted to let you know that I regret everything I did, that I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I should've loved you, taken you to football games, played with you, loved you in a way that a father should."

George looked up from the picture.

"I'll never understand how it feels. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I understand if you decide to never talk to me again. I will respect your wishes. But George, just know that I will always love you."

George stood up from his chair, "Thank you. I think you should go now."

Both him and his father got up and walked over to the front door.

"Goodbye, dad."

"Bye, George."

He watched as he walked down the steps, get into his car and drive off. He shut the door and walked over to the kitchen table. He sat down and stared at the old, yellow-tinted picture.

He could only wonder what life would've been like if she was here.   
  
  
  
  


After some time, the front door unlocked and opened.

"Hey! I'm back! There are some bags right here if you want to-"

George ran and hugged Clay, quickly shedding tears. He felt Clay hold him back.

"What's wrong?!"

"Can you just hold me?"

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! It means so much to me! This book is not over just yet, but we are nearing the end (kind of). So please wait for new chapters! Thank you!!! :-)
> 
> If you want, I'm MUCH more active on Wattpad, so if you want to interact with me there, go here!  
> wattpad.com/user/juswannabeme
> 
> I also just made a twitter! If you want to follow me and interact with me there, It's @/juswannabeme2   
> twitter.com/juswannabeme2


	31. Afraid

Clay placed the steaming, hot mug in front of George. The sweet, warm aroma filled the room. He watched as he lifted it to his lips, taking a deep sip of the fresh coffee. He put the mug back onto the table, hearing it clank against the wood. 

“Thanks.” George said. 

Clay sat down across from him, “Yeah,” he smiled, “How’d you sleep?” 

“Fine,” George chuckled. 

“Sorry, your bed is really comfy, you can just push me off the bed if I’m too much.” Clay tried to hide his grin. 

George looked down smiling, “Ha, it’s okay, I don’t, I don’t mind.” 

Clay felt his face heat up from the inside, feeling the tingling warmth trickle down his chest. A burst of nerves swarmed around his stomach like a family of butterflies. 

_This is killing me._

The whole incident left Clay ambivalent. He felt like he failed. Opening that door and feeling his embrace felt different than it ever had before. He didn’t cry, they just held each other in that new moment. He didn’t feel broken or shattered, but rather, healed. 

George told him everything; exactly how it went down. It was like he was relieved, finally being able to dissect the poison that was forever tormenting his body. 

Clay always had this plan, a pledge he promised to himself that he could fix all of George’s problems and become the solution to his pain. But until the other day, he finally realized that his plan was unrealistic. He couldn’t be some hero and sweep George off his feet. As much as he wanted to be there, it was solely up to George to grow from his pain and finally face his father. 

Before, all he could feel was guilt for seemingly failing to protect the man that he loved. But there was only so much he could do. And now that he thought about it, he’s done so much for George. More than he thought he ever would. 

But there was one more thing missing. 

It’s been an entire month since he came to the U.K. and each day that he spent here was more fulfilling than the last, despite all the hardships that never seemed to disappear. 

Every minute his love grew for George, knowing for a fact deep down that he was his,

_Soulmate._

But thinking about that only made him hurt inside. His feelings were brewing inside like some forgien concoction, unable to separate itself into its given components. 

The thought of never being able to share his life with George the way he truly desired was unbearable to withstand. Although, some things weren’t adding up. He often wondered why George was so comfortable with sharing the same bed together, especially the way he was able to topple him like some blanket every night. 

The way they spoke, the way they shared their feelings to each other so easily confused Clay more than it reassured him. The concept of friendships on the surface seemed like a simple thing to understand. But his relationship with George had always felt different. 

Time was short, and he couldn’t stay in the U.K forever. 

He had to accept the fact that there was no way to know if George loves him. He couldn’t prove it beyond a reasonable doubt; quickly becoming a hard pill to swallow. Every single day his heart ached for him. 

Time was running out. 

_I have to tell him._

_But how? When?_

_I have to wait for the right moment._

Clay felt his heart race. He was becoming too lovesick. It was turning into a disease. 

George moved over to the sofa, with Clay joining him. 

“Are you hungry?” Clay asked. 

“Not really.” 

“You sure? It’s like,” he quickly checked his phone, “almost 2 pm” Clay giggled, “I guess we slept in.” 

George smiled, “Yeah but, I’m fine. You can make yourself something to eat if you want.” 

“Hm, I’m thinking french toast.” Clay hopped off the couch and walked into the kitchen, “I’ll just make you some anyway,” Clay said as he searched through the cabinets. 

“Thank you.” 

“Yeah!” Clay turned and looked at George momentarily, catching a glimpse of his fuzzy, messy hair. 

_You’re so fucking adorable._

Clay went about and started preparing breakfast. The tv from the living room blared George’s favorite show. He couldn’t help but sneakily catch glimpses of George periodically sipping on his coffee.

One of his favorite times of the day was being able to sleep with George everynight, especially when he got the chance to feel his soft skin against his. He often stayed awake until he heard George fall asleep, always smiling had he listened to his quiet snores. He fit perfectly in between Clay’s arms, like a piece to a missing puzzle. 

But every so often he would catch himself indulging. Sometimes he wondered what it felt like if he made love to George. The thought of their bodies pressed against one another, moving his hands down his small frame and giving him all of his love was electrifying. He wondered how he would react to his kisses, what his soft moans would sound like together. 

He could only imagine what his soft, pink lips would taste like. 

Clay closed his eyes, trying to brush off those embarrassing thoughts. 

Although, daydreaming about making love to George was most likely the closest thing he would ever experience something like that. Because there was no way anything like that would happen. Dreams exist to distract people from reality, to blind the possible outcomes and possibilities that one might find painful to endure. 

Just like confessing your love to someone. 

Clay plated the food and brought it over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. 

“Thank you.” George smiled. 

“Do you want anything else?” Clay asked. 

“No I’m good.” 

They both turned and looked at the tv, starting to eat their food. Moments like these is what he cherished the most, especially being so busy lately going out and seeing the U.K. every other day. 

Not that it was becoming boring, he wished it was different than what it was right now. He wished he was his boyfriend. So instead of sitting next to each other eating french toast as friends, maybe they could eat french toast together as boyfriends. 

Clay felt his face grow red. 

After watching a couple of episodes of the show that blared on the tv, Clay took the plates and washed up in the kitchen. He made his way over to the living room and plopped onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh as he hit the cushion. 

“Can I ask you something?” George suddenly asked. 

Clay got up and looked at George. His face turned cold, becoming hard to read. 

“Yeah?” 

George ran his fingers through his messy hair and looked down, “Um, have you been seeing the stuff online?” 

Confusion quickly set in, “What do you mean?”

George let out a soft sigh, “I don’t know. I guess people are getting annoyed on how we aren’t active lately. I’ve just been seeing some comments.” 

“Oh well, I mean I haven’t been online really. I haven’t been tweeting that much either. Why?” 

Sadness grew on George’s face, “It’s just that some of the stuff that people are saying are,” he took a slight pause, “I don’t know, just really intense stuff I guess.” His voice died at the end. 

The room became even more quiet than before, Clay fully sat up to get a better look at his face, “Why? What are people saying?” 

“Can I be honest?” George said. 

Clay felt his heart beat faster, “Yeah.”

“Some people are sending me really mean things,” Clay watched as he gripped onto the small pillow, “Like I understand that people are annoyed that I haven’t been uploading or streaming. But I don’t know why they have to be so mean.” George let out a frustrated sigh. 

His heart sank, “I can tweet something if you want me too. I can explain what's going on or-” 

“No that's okay, you don’t have to do that,” George brought the pillow to his chest, squeezing it, “They’ve been calling me names. Dumb, stupid, ugly, worthless, annoying,” he let out another frustrated sigh, but this time it was shaky. 

“It just hurts a lot right now.” 

Clay felt his heart crack, “George. I’m sorry. Please trust me when I say I know who you feel. I get those comments too. I promise, those people don’t appreciate you, they just pick one someone for whatever reason. Their words mean nothing.” 

George flashed a mediocre smile, “Thanks. But, I think we should try to get back to streaming.”

He felt his heart sink even deeper, his chest became tight, “You don’t owe anyone anything, you’re not obligated to post stuff, you can do it when you want to-”

“I get that, I know,” the air surrounding them suddenly became tense, “I kinda wanna get back to it. I might stream later. I don’t want to keep anyone waiting anymore, you know?”

Clay broke eye contact, looking down at the floor, “Yeah yeah, I know what you mean,”

 _Maybe I should test the waters_

“I can’t stay here forever!” Clay forced out an awkward laugh and smile.

“Yeah, I guess so,” the room became cold, the air passing through them seemed to stop, “I mean sooner or later we’ll have to go back to normal right?” 

_No. We can’t._

“Uh huh,” Clay gripped his hands together. 

“Well I’m gonna go take a shower. I’m probably gonna stream right after so I’ll be in my room.” 

“Okay.”

With that, George stood up, smiled and walked out of the room. After a couple of moments he heard the shower turn on from the distance. The water crashed against the walls, mimicking the sound of rain. 

Clay buried his face in his hands, “Fuck,” he let out a deep breath, “what am I gonna do?”

The world around him felt like it was collapsing. He looked up and glanced around the room. 

_“I mean sooner or later we’ll have to go back to normal right?”_

  
  


_Normal? What does that mean? Like nothing has ever happened?_

_It can’t go back to normal. I can’t go back home._

_I can’t leave things how there are._

_I don’t want to feel lonely anymore._

_I can’t go back without telling him, nothing will change if I don’t._

Clay’s stomach quickly turned, making him feel nauseous. His head began spinning in never ending circles. He fell back and landed on the couch, staring at the ceiling. 

Back home, everyday felt the same, as if his life was on a constant loop. The nature of consistency comforts most people when they need it the most, and for most of his life Clay found it useful. Everything was falling into place where it should be. His YouTube channel had completely taken off, he finally upgraded his apartment and he was finally able to buy things he _wanted._

But now as he laid on a couch 5,000 miles away from Florida inside the apartment of the love of his life, he finally knows what he was missing. 

_George._

If he doesn’t make the change, everything around him will stay in place, forcing him back into his world of uncertainty. 

Clay looked up as he heard George’s bedroom door open, “Did I leave my phone in here?” 

Clay glanced at the coffee table and grabbed his phone, “Yeah it’s right here.” 

“Oh thanks,” he walked over and snatched the phone out of his hands. George turned around to walk back into his room. 

“George?” 

He quickly faced Clay, “Yes?”

“Do you wanna go out tonight?” 

“Uh, sure!” 

He watched as George walked inside his room and close the door. 

A heavy sigh slipped between his quivering lips. 

“Please George,” he whispered, “I love you so much.” 


End file.
